


The Round House

by foxyjudas



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Adam Lambert is here, Crazy Dreams, Damen and Nik are small town guys, Damen is a teacher, Ghosts, Haunted House, Haunted Woods, Homophobia, I didn't see that coming, Laurent has a tiny dog, Laurent is a kind of a nerd, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of past abuse, Modern AU, Nicaise is dead imsosorry, a pop culture nerd, actually he's a bit of a slut, and also Lazar, and he's with Nikandros, at least one road trip, but Nik doesn't mind, govart gets what he deserves, it works better this way for me, lots of 80s hair bands, now there is smut, obviously Auguste lives, one or two gratuitous mentions of Travis Fimmel, phantom fires, taking liberties with Pallas and his size, that wears clothes, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:24:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxyjudas/pseuds/foxyjudas
Summary: Laurent de Vere’s uncle was found dead in the woods that surround an old farmhouse he purchased to renovate. Laurent would have been happy to let the man and the house rot, but his father and older brother wanted to continue what Reginald started. When his brother, Auguste, decides to go and personally oversee the work, Laurent finds himself in an impossible position.





	1. Just Another Lost Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing in this fandom. I've been bouncing ideas around my head for months. I'd really like honest feedback. I am almost finished with the second chapter and the outline is completely done. This is likely to be about 11 chapters long. So let me know what you think, please! And thanks for reading!
> 
> (title is from L.A. Woman by Billy Idol)

LAURENT:

"That was your uncle?"

"Yeah," was all Laurent said. He wasn't going into his past with a hillbilly Uber driver. Well, maybe he wasn't a complete hillbilly - the guy was from Nashville. Laurent wasn't really impressed with that city, but he knew it was much better than Peacher's Grove - the little community he was headed to. Community. It wasn't a proper town.

"I'm sorry," said the driver. That jerked Laurent back into the moment.

"For what?"

"Your... your uncle. I'm sorry he killed himself."

"Oh, he didn't kill himself," Laurent said, as a small bitter laugh crept into his tone.

"Sorry. They just said that he..." The man's voice drifted off. He wasn't sure what to say.

"He didn't kill himself. And stop apologizing. I didn't say I was sorry he's dead. I just said it wasn't suicide. He didn't have the balls or the conscience for that."

"It could have been the children..." the man said, but he stopped, shook his head and apologized. Again. "Sorry. Local story, superstition."

Before Laurent had time to ask, the bag beside him stirred and as he pulled the zipper back a bit, a tiny round head popped up and barked, completely unsure of where she was or what was happening. She wasn't happy being sedated and she simply had to make sure her opinion was heard. She was a lot like her father.

"Is that a dog?"

"No, I was tired of talking so I decided..." he stopped. There was no reason to be hateful. Not to this guy. This guy had gone above and beyond for him. And he wasn't the one who decided that Auguste and Laurent should finish what their uncle started. Inspiration. That's what their father had said. Inspiration for Auguste and his writing. Inspiration for Laurent and his photography. Or painting. Or any of his various hobbies. Hobbies. Also what his father said.

"He's cute," the guy said, glancing in his rearview mirror. "Tiny. What's his name?"

"She. And yes. She's very tiny. Her name is Ragnar."

"How old?"

"About 2." Laurent said, hoping they were done with the questions. This guy didn't need to know how he came to have his dog. And even if he did, Laurent didn't really want to tell the story. Not right now. Too many other things on his mind.

"How much longer?" Laurent asked as the trees flew by outside. It felt like they'd been on this particular road for hours. It was early October and it was unseasonably cold. At least that's what the driver had said. The leaves hadn't changed very much. That was kind of a disappointment.

"About five minutes. There's only one road that goes all the way into the house from the main highway."

* * *

 

Laurent only brought two bags. He didn't need much because he didn't plan on staying. Some old t-shirts and hoodies, two pairs of jeans, including the pair he was wearing, a pair of Zadig & Voltaire boots that he was also wearing, and his favorite old moto jacket. He should have paid more attention to the weather. The jeans were so shredded he might as well be walking around without anything on at all, but it didn't matter. He'd spend a week or two helping Auguste, but he wanted to be back in LA by Halloween. And he wanted Auguste with him. No exceptions. They could hire whoever they needed and fly in for a day to see how it was going. He didn't care whether or not their father kept it or sold it. Laurent's time here would be done.

It was an eerie place. The old two-story farmhouse sat in a perfectly round clearing in the middle of the woods. Laurent was a bit confused because the wind was freezing, but the old weather vane on the roof was deathly still.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"What?" Laurent asked. It was a very weird question. "Two weeks?"

"No. How long are you staying today?" the man clarified his question. "Do you want me to wait or do you want me to come back later? I really don't want to be here after dark, but if you need me I will."

"Oh," Laurent said, finally understanding. "I'm staying here. My brother will be in tomorrow. You can go."

He could tell the man wanted to say something, but Laurent's face, pretty as it was, had a way of silencing people - especially men. He didn't look at him again as he slid out of the car and put Ragnar on the ground so she could get a look at her new surroundings. He wasn't even to the porch when he heard the wheels spinning, kicking up dust and rocks as the car flew out of sight. Didn't want to be here after dark. Laurent rolled his eyes.

The inside of the house was as decayed and depressing as the outside. If his uncle had accomplished anything it wasn't apparent. The only thing that wasn't as old as the house itself was a mattress in the front room. It was so close to the door Laurent almost tripped over it. He paused, obviously his uncle had been same man right up to his death. "Typical." His uncle didn't care about this house. The man had done all the restoration he planned to do.

He stared down at the mattress for a little too long and had to pull himself out his before the memories drowned him. He would not allow his demons to get to him. Not here, not now. His uncle was dead. He should have been dead long ago. The mattress was expensive, of course, and Laurent laughed when he noticed the plastic was still on. It had never been used.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Ragnar in a silly voice he only used for her and around her. She seemed to enjoy it. It wound her up even without the word 'hungry,' but by the time he had her little dish filled with food she was bouncing on her hind legs, barking at him.

He sat down on the mattress beside her, earlier he'd been hungry too. He asked the driver what his favorite restaurant was and they'd ended up at a BBQ place called Peg Leg Porker. Normally, Laurent would have refused to eat at a rib joint that had a pig on the sign, but he was hungry, Ragnar was hungry and he could tell by the way he was describing the food that the driver was hungry too. He'd given the man a stack of bills and told him to get himself whatever he wanted and to bring Laurent the same. Before they left the city he'd had the guy pick up a steak for Ragnar from the guy's favorite steakhouse. After that he grabbed several bottles of water from a gas station and then it was on to the house. The man was more than happy to accommodate Laurent. Throwing piles of money at a situation almost always improved it.

"Is that good, puppy?" he asked Ragnar, leaning down and kissing her head. His ribs were cold, but he didn't care. Being here, seeing the mattress, it was all too much. His stomach was too twisted to eat. He should have gone into the restaurant.

After Ragnar had eaten and Laurent had checked Twitter and Instagram, he sent off a quick text to Auguste who wanted to know what time to expect him. He felt a little bad about lying to him, but it was necessary. At least he thought so. This was just an old house. The scary things didn't have time to take place. As he unpacked he was suddenly grateful that mattress hadn't been used because, in his haste to get here, he had forgotten a sleeping bag and a pillow. He did have a blanket, though, because he refused to use an airline blanket. This was so poorly planned on his part. He'd tried to find any excuse to avoid this, but when couldn't change Auguste's mind, he knew he had to come. He wouldn't leave Auguste alone. Not here.

Laurent took his time exploring the house. Well, the first floor. He wasn't sure if the old stairs would hold Ragnar, much less hold him. The one bright spot was a downstairs bathroom. There was a gorgeous copper, clawfoot tub. It needed work, but it would be amazing. That was going to be his first task. Finding someone to restore this so he could at least take many long baths while he was there. The idea made it feel a little more tolerable.

He knew his uncle was not a suicide kind of guy. The rest of the family had believed it, but not Laurent. After he learned that avoiding this place was not an option, he wanted some time alone here, he wanted to see and feel what his uncle had. He hoped it was awful, but there was nothing. It was just an old house. He'd lied and told Auguste he wouldn't get there until the day after. Auguste had scheduled several deliveries. His car would be ready to pick up after his flight in and from there he'd drive to the house and wait for Laurent. But Laurent wanted solitude. He wanted to thank whatever killed his uncle.

* * *

 

Around 11 he and Ragnar crashed. He was wearing a one piece suit that Auguste bought for him several Halloweens ago. It was Stitch. Laurent had always loved that movie. Their parents were alive, but he always identified with Lilo and Nani. And he'd always wanted to go to the pound and find a talking blue dog that couldn't be killed by a truck. He packed the suit because he hoped Auguste would bring the one Laurent bought for him last Christmas. It was Harry Potter. A Quidditch onesie in Gryffindor colors. Of course Auguste was Gryffindor. Laurent was Slytherin. Neither of them would ever allow anyone else to see them in such silly things. It was just for them.

At first he thought he was dreaming. He heard the rattling, but it took him several minutes to completely wake up. He opened his eyes and looked around, Ragnar poking her head out of the top of the blue, fuzzy suit. It was cold and she'd worked her way inside after he'd fallen asleep. The next time he heard it, it was louder. It was banging. With the way it was bouncing around his skull it should be shattering the windows. Then there was a crash just outside the front door. Locals. It had to be. Kids had somehow learned he was there and were having a little fun. A stranger in an old house in the middle of the woods. Of course it was kids, but he wasn't going to allow it. He covered Ragnar up with the blanket and grabbed his phone and the small pistol he always carried. His father had insisted both his sons carry when they each came out.

Annoyed, he jerked the door open, shining the light into the yard. Nothing. No one. He went down the stairs, looked around the corner, and still nothing. He went all the way around the house, the cold silence crept into his bones, but he didn't turn back. He would not allow fear to conquer him and he could easily handle a few bored redneck teenagers. By the time he circled the house and came around the opposite side, he was satisfied that he was alone, but as he was going back in, something above him hit the roof hard enough to shake the old wooden stairs he was standing on. Inside he heard Ragnar and her screaming bark. The bark she only used on very necessary occasions.

"I will shoot you!" he yelled. "I will fucking shoot you!" But it stopped as quickly as it begun. Laurent held his breath and stumbled back, shining the light and pointing the gun toward the roof. Eye shine flashed in the black night and he was finally able to breathe again. He stomped back into the house, rolling his eyes at his own silliness and slammed the door behind him before settling back on the mattress with Ragnar. "Owls," he said, rubbing her little head. "Fucking owls."


	2. Model Citizen. Zero Discipline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auguste arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is from Panama by Van Halen)

AUGUSTE:

“Have you lost your mind?” Auguste said, emphasis on every word as he slapped Laurent’s cheeks.

Laurent didn’t even open his eyes.

“I almost shot an owl last night,” he said.

“Our father and his brilliant decisions. His hair in the 80s, his 28 year old midlife crisis, giving you a gun.”

“Continuously referring to our hopes and dreams as hobbies.”

“Laurent,” Auguste said softly. “You know he doesn’t really mean it.” He hated the schism that had developed between his little brother and his father.

“Do I?” Laurent said, finally standing. The look he gave Auguste was familiar.

"Well," Auguste laughed. "What he wants doesn't actually matter now. We can do whatever we want because we are college educated grown ass men. Or I am. You, apparently, are a Disney cartoon."

“How did you get here so early? I thought your car wasn’t going to be ready until what? 10?” Laurent asked, unzipping and stepping out of the onesie. “And did you bring any food? I’m starving.”

“Early? It’s almost noon.” It was strange. He couldn’t remember Laurent ever sleeping in. "Wait. What exactly was your plan if I couldn’t get here?”

“Call an Uber, order a pizza, find a stream to bathe in. It’s not like I’m surrounded by a thousand miles of wilderness.”

“Well, you might want to find that stream because the water won’t be on here until this afternoon,” he said, tossing Laurent a bottle of Fiji. “Brush your teeth and we’ll go get lunch, but we gotta be back by 2 so hurry,” Auguste said, glancing down at the Stitch suit. He was already smiling when he looked back up. “You chased an owl around with a gun while you were dressed like that?” Now he really couldn’t stop laughing.

Another glare. It was impressive. Laurent managed to look so disgusted with a toothbrush in his mouth. The middle finger helped.

“Let’s go. I’m starving and there’s no coffee," he said, spitting in the filthy sink.”

“You’re not gonna change clothes?” Auguste asked, still unable to stop smiling. “You’re gonna wear the same thing you slept in?”

Laurent didn’t even bother with an answer. He just put his jacket on, scooped Ragnar up and walked out the door.

* * *

 

Peachers Grove had 3 restaurants. Manzanillo was Mexican, Peachers Grove Cafe was a typical meat and three, and Jack’s was a burger joint that opened in 1954. There was a lunch counter and a jukebox. Yelp said their sundaes were the best in the state.

“You can’t bring that dog in here,” was the first thing the woman behind that counter said when they walked in.

Ragnar was tucked in her usual spot under Laurent’s arm.

“Can she come in now?” he asked, pulling $100 out of his wallet.

Auguste sometimes felt like one of those obnoxious parents who laughed at everything their bratty kid said or did. He loved Laurent more than anything. He’d die for him, he’d kill for him, and he was oddly proud of Laurent’s sarcasm and ability to manipulate almost any situation in his favor.

“What can I get y’all?”

They weren’t even sitting yet.

“Coffee,” Laurent said.

She nodded and then looked at Auguste. The smile she gave him was familiar. He often saw it on the faces of women who threw themselves at him but this wasn't a woman. She couldn't be more than 16. When he smiled back, she went completely red as she turned away.

“Oh my god,” Laurent said. “What is it that you do to women?”

Laurent stood. “Where are you going?” Auguste asked as Ragnar was dropped in his lap.

“I think I’d like to piss inside this morning. Stay with your uncle,” he said.

“I am not this dog’s uncle.” Auguste said, a little too loud. Laurent needed to hear him though so it couldn’t be helped. He just waved an apology to the diners who looked scandalized by the newcomers and their little pet.

The waitress was still beet red when she came back.

“Um, have you decided?” she asked. “Oh,” she beamed at the little dog in his lap. “Oh, he’s so cute! What’s his name?”

“Ragnar and she’s a...”

“Oh my god!” Her instant excitement was kind of unsettling. “That's who you look like! You know, the guy who plays that viking on that show. My cousin, she's 27, she showed me all these old videos and pictures of him back when he was young. He did Calvin Klein ads and all this stuff and there's one where he's playing on a skateboard, you know, and he's shirtless and your hair is longer, but you look so much like him!" It was a little scary.

“Um thanks,” he said though he wasn’t really sure if it was a compliment or not. “What... what’s good here?” It felt like he was just changing the subject with every breath.

He finally decided on a burger and fries, of course. He wasn’t even going to attempt to order for Laurent. It would be wrong. Even if it was exactly what Laurent wanted, it would still be wrong. He knew his baby brother and all his moods.

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at the waitress, catching her before she left to put his order in. “Are there any guys around here who do odd jobs?” He’d scheduled the big projects weeks ago, but after seeing the place in person it was obvious that the details were going to be crucial.

“Yeah,” she said, almost as if she’d been dreaming. “I think Nik is at the counter. I’ll go get him.”

Okay. That was decisive. Guess he was meeting Nik whether he wanted to or not and when Nik walked up and introduced himself, Auguste knew he owed the waitress a substantial tip. Or a car. Whatever she preferred. He tried not to stare too long, but the guy was gorgeous. Tall, dark, beautiful skin, eyes and smile. He bit his tongue and gestured for Nik to sit down across from him. Laurent could be as pissy and snippy as he wanted. Naturally, Auguste knew he had to step lightly. This wasn’t a big city. This wasn’t like any place he’d ever visited. So he kept the conversation strictly professional. He was choosing every word wisely. Absolutely no flirting until he was completely sure.

When Laurent came back, he slid in next to Auguste, smiling, his jaw clenched the entire time.

“What the hell, Auguste, I was gone three minutes.”

“This is Nik,” Auguste said quickly. He didn't want one of Laurent's Olenna Tyrell moments. Nik was exactly Auguste's type. “He’s an electrician. He’s gonna come to the house and give us some quotes.”

“There’s a bathtub. I think it’s copper. If you can fix it today I’ll give you $10,000,” Laurent said, ignoring the conversation between his brother and Nik. Laurent wanted what he wanted.

“I. You... what?” Nik stammered. “You could buy a new one and have it installed for half that.”

”This is Laurent,” Auguste said, his eyes pleading with his brother. “I think getting a new one is a good idea. It’s filthy and old and god only knows what has happened in it. And it’s not like you’re going to be using it soon.”

“I would like to use it tonight.”

“We’re not staying there, Laurent. We went over this already. It’s cold and dangerous and we’re staying in this town. With other people.” He rarely used that particular tone with Laurent because he wanted his baby brother to know exactly what it meant when he did. There would be no arguing this. “If you have to have it, we can get it and you can spend every day soaking, but we’re going to be back here by dark every night. God, I can’t believe you stayed there by yourself,” he knew he sounded like their father. “So go shop and find something you like, have it delivered, and can you install it?” he asked, turning to Nik.

“I don’t know anything about Nashville,” Laurent said.

“So get a driver. God knows you have had all kinds of success ordering those poor bastards around,” he could tell Laurent was not appeased. “I can go tomorrow. I have deliveries and appointments all afternoon. I can’t go today.”

“My buddy is back at the counter...” Nik offered, but whatever else he was going to say was cut off by their waitress.

Now she had a phone with picture. Still smiling as brightly as possible. It was a shirtless guy who did look a lot like him. Even Laurent had to look twice.

“See?” she said, giddy.

“Oh, you have to stop,” Laurent said to her and then he yelped. Auguste was twisting a tiny piece of exposed skin on his leg. It kept him quiet.

“You were saying,” he turned back to Nik.

“Yeah, my buddy is off today and his dad has a box truck. He could take you shopping and just bring back whatever you find.”

“See,” Auguste said to Laurent.

“Fine,” Laurent agreed, pouring sugar into his mug of coffee.

“Great, um. I’ll go get him,” Nik said, standing. “His name is Damen.”


	3. Nobody's Lonely 'Til Somebody's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent is Laurent, Damen is Damen, Auguste learns about the woods, and Nik learns about Auguste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is from It's In The Way That You Use It by Eric Clapton)

LAURENT:

"I can't believe Auguste sent me away with some giant stranger," Laurent said, doing his best to stab holes in Damen's skull with his mind. He was barely blinking. "How do I know you're not going to murder me?"

"How do you know an Uber driver isn't going to murder you?"

That was a good point and Laurent was just going to ignore it. He would not be bested by this man so easily. "You could be planning to kill me and use my skin to make a jacket or a lampshade."

Apparently the guy thought that was funny. "There's not enough of you for a jacket. And I really think you should calm down. Before Auguste even let me near you he got a picture of the truck, including the license plate, a picture of me and he checked my driver's license. If I do anything to you, I'll fry for it."

"And yet I will still be just as dead."

The guy had been smiling since they got in the car. He was far too happy and Laurent had to put a stop to that.

"What's your name again?" He knew very well what his name was.

"Damianos," he said. "But everyone calls me Damen.

"Is that Greek?" Laurent asked. "It sounds Greek."

"It is Greek. Most people have no idea."

"Most people are idiots."

"Most people are." And it honestly looked like Damen was about to laugh. He was enjoying this. And that would just not do, but before Laurent decided how to put a stop to it, Damen was talking again.

"I hope your brother is having a better time than you are," he said.

"Is Auguste Nik's type?" Maybe that would get to him.

"Auguste is everybody's type," was Damen's reply.

Laurent opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Probably for the first time in his life. He wasn't even sure where to go after that. He crossed his arms and looked out the window, huffy. "Then yes," he finally said. "Auguste is having a much better time."

"Do you have any idea where you want to go? I know of a few places that might have what you're looking for," Damen said.

Just like that? He was able to change the subject just like that?

"No. As long as they allow dogs," Laurent said.

"Alright."

Laurent turned and looked at Damen. Really looked at him for the first time. He was handsome. There was no denying that. The dark skin, the dark eyes, the curls. Laurent even found his size attractive. He found himself wondering how Auguste had managed to turn the conversation to attraction. Auguste was always so good at that sort of thing. Never awkward or overly sarcastic. Auguste was clever, sure, but not in a hateful way. Everyone loved him. Laurent loved him and he loved that he had a part of Auguste no one else would ever have. Boyfriends would come and go, but Laurent belonged to Auguste and Auguste belonged to him.

"You ok?" Damen asked.

"Yes," Laurent said. He suddenly hated what he was wearing. The same clothes from yesterday, an vintage Aerosmith tee, ripped jeans, boots and his old moto jacket, all crumpled after sleeping in them. His hair was piled on top of his head in a messy topknot. He hadn't even had a shower in well over a day.

"So how old are you?" Damen asked. Because, apparently, Laurent was being interviewed now.

"I'll be 22 on Halloween."

"I'm 26," Damen said. Not that Laurent had asked. The really irritating thing was that he was actually curious about this beautiful man who had given up his day off to help a complete stranger with an absolutely ridiculous task. "Where are you from?"

"Why did you do this?" Laurent asked. "Why did you agree to this? Nik said it was your day off. You haven't even tried to hook up with me."

"Would you hook up with me if I wanted to?" Damen asked, obviously trying to keep himself from laughing.

"No," Laurent said with a snort.

"Alright then, there you go."

"Are you going to tell me where you're from?" Damen said again.

"LA," was all Laurent said.

"Did you go to college?"

"I graduated last May."

"What about Auguste?"

"Seriously? You're gonna ask me about him now? Maybe Nik will be cool with a threesome. Oh, and Auguste is 32," he added. He didn't even know why. Auguste had turned 24 back in July.

"He is not 32," Damen said, openly laughing now. "You're an ornery little shit, you know that? Prettiest little thing I've ever seen, but ornery."

"I'm not little. You are just sideshow large. You and Nik. I'm 5'10" and Auguste is almost 6' but you two are giants."

"How long is your hair? I noticed Auguste's was down his back." Damen was fine just ignoring his attitude.

Laurent reached up and pulled it loose. It was several inches longer than Auguste's. Prettiest little thing he'd ever seen. Let's see how he liked a mane of tangled, filthy waves.

"I like it," Damen said. When he said nothing else, Laurent pulled it back up.

"Where are you two staying while you're in town?"

"I was going to stay at the house, but Auguste made reservations on Airbnb. I don't know where."

Damen made a face. "There's only one in Peachers Grove and I doubt you want to stay there."

"Why?"

"Because Ms Anita is crazy. She's great and everybody loves her, but I'm guessing Auguste did not read the reviews. She ran a couple out because they wouldn't play a didgeridoo with her at 2am," Damen laughed.

Laurent let his head fall back. Auguste probably had read the reviews. "Auguste can be a fucking Disney princess. He probably found that charming."

* * *

After going to every store Damen knew of and even a few Laurent found on Google they were headed back to Peachers Grove with an empty truck. Damen was still the perfect gentlemen. He never even faltered. He took Laurent to Sephora so he could get all sorts of little luxuries like bath bombs and candles and body butters. He even helped him look and suggested certain products. Apparently, Damen had an ex who loved Sephora. Laurent didn't want to hear about her.

"I know it's not the same thing, but you are welcome to stay with us. As long as you want. We have two bathrooms, both with huge tubs. And you'll be somewhere warm. With electricity. And a nice soft bed you can crash into. That's gotta be better than an old abandoned house." It was a sweet and sincere offer. Damen was... sweet. Just sweet.

They were sitting at Damen's favorite steakhouse and Laurent could not figure him out. In his world people didn't do things for other people. Not like this.

"We? "Laurent asked. Not the girlfriend. He didn't care at the beginning and didn't necessarily care now, but he'd rather not meet a girlfriend.

"Me and Nik. My parents have a farm on the on the other side of town," And Damen gave him a knowing smile.

"Your parents are farmers?"

"Yep. Sheep, chickens, cows, soybeans, corn, tobacco. Pigs," he added.

"So you kill animals?" That's it, there was the flaw. He slaughtered animals.

"No," he said. We produce wool, milk, butter, cheese, eggs. We also grow tomatoes, strawberries and pumpkins. We have a huge corn maze around Halloween. We have some bees, we have cabbage, potatoes and greens."

"But the pigs. You said there were pigs," Laurent asked.

"Oh, Bacon and Eulalie are not for eating. No eating my pigs," he said, pointing at Laurent, his smile was blinding. It was too pure, too good. It was almost making him dizzy. There had to be something wrong with this guy. "We have horses too. You can't eat them either."

"Why did you agree to do this? You wasted your whole day off on me. I don't..."

"You don't understand why a person would help someone out?" He shook his head and laughed. "It's not a big deal." He had even insisted on paying which made Laurent feel even worse. He knew family farms weren't exactly booming right now. He'd find a way to pay him back. He hated owing anyone anything. "Now eat. My grandma would have a stroke if she saw you. You're so skinny."

"So what do you do?" Laurent asked. He'd already tried to argue the size thing.

"I'm a teacher. 8th grade," and he laughed. "I can handle ornery little shits. It's my life's work."

 

AUGUSTE

Satisfied that Laurent was going to be fine, he motioned for Nik to follow him to the car. He'd pulled Laurent aside to make sure he was ok with this. He was so determined to have this bathtub. And Laurent was going to get what Laurent wanted.

"Wow," Nik said. "Nice."

It was a Range Rover. His father had picked it out so they'd have something with enough room for any projects they wanted to work on themselves. Auguste left a lot of the details about this trip to his father. Laurent wasn't interested and Augsute thought restarting the project would be fun, but he really had no idea what he was doing. He knew they had appointments all afternoon and he knew they needed a car, but he had no idea about specifics. He took an Uber from the airport to the dealer and they had this ready for him.

"Wanna drive?" Auguste asked dangling the keys in front of Nik.

"Are you serious?" The way his eyes lit up was absolutely adorable.

"Of course I'm serious." He could drive a lot more than the car. Auguste kept that to himself.

Nik was cautious at first, but once they were away from town, Auguste nudged him, letting him know that he could drive it as hard and fast as he wanted. No need to act like a fearful granny.

"I haven't been to this house in years," Nik said when he found his pace. Auguste glanced over at him.

"What's the story with it? The guy who dropped Laurent off said something about kids? Laurent didn't ask."

Auguste heard Nik take a breath, and he exhaled, laughing. "Alright. Here it is. An old witch lived in the house in the 1800s. Every time she came to town, a kid disappeared. Some people think she ate them, some people think she sacrificed them. But whatever she did, she tossed their bodies into the woods and sealed the tree lines. She was safe as long as she wasn't in the woods - the clearing and the road were safe for her. Did you notice how perfect the circle it stands in is? And how the only road going in and out is perfectly lined with trees? She had to have a way in and out because she needed to come to town for supplies and... children. Every kid in Peachers Grove has spent the night in this house looking for the fires. When you're 12 or 13 the ghosts are a big deal. By the time you're in high school, it's just a good place to hook up."

"What fires?" Auguste asked, flashing a smile at Nik. This was a lot better than he expected.

"The fires the kids burn to try and stay warm. They've been buried for a hundred years. The fires blaze, but they don't give off any heat so the children are forever freezing. Most people call it a cold wood, some people call it a witch wood. You're supposed to be able to see the fires from the house, but you have to be careful. If you go into the woods looking for the fires, the children will judge you and they decide if you make it out or not. But you're safe in the house and on the road because they can't pass the seal. You know, the seal still holds even after her death," he said, laughing again. "They burned her, by the way. Left her on a tree to rot. There is a scorched tree. And I know so many people who claim to have found the fires," he laughed. "You can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting someone who claims to have felt how cold they are and lived to tell."

"Have you ever found one? One of the fires."

"No. I've never seen one," Nik was smiling even bigger now.

"So you go to look for ghosts and stay for the sex." It was a great legend. Murdered children luring people into the woods to be judged. Maybe they should Airbnb this place. If they marketed the legend effectively it would generate a steady stream of revenue for the town. He'd call his father and see what he thought. Maybe he was his father's son, after all.

"You go for the ghosts and stay for the sex," Nik said.

"So... have you?" Mentions of sex could easily be nothing more than guy talk. It's what some men did. Nik didn't appear to be one of those types, but they'd known each other all of 30 minutes. Nik could be any type. Auguste had been with exactly one woman and even he was guilty of bragging about it in the right company. It was his freshman year at USC and she was there and she was willing so why not? It had gone pretty much exactly like he imagined. Neither of them managed to have an orgasm, but they had remained friends. She'd been there for him more than just about anyone other than Laurent.

"Have a I ever gone for ghosts and stayed for sex?" Nik asks with a sly smile, never taking his eyes off the road, but Auguste got a vibe. "Yeah. Once or twice."

Auguste nodded as a smile spread across his face.

"What about you, "Auguste de Vere? You ever had sex someplace you weren't supposed to be?"

"I've had sex everywhere I wasn't supposed to be," Auguste was laughing. It wasn't a brag. Auguste had a healthy appetite. Especially when it came to men like Nik. "Including on my dad's desk." He waited for Nik's counter offer.

"Really?" Nik finally said with a laugh. "I can't beat that. Did your dad find out?"

"Oh, hell no. He would have killed me," Auguste paused. "And the guy," he laughed, but held his breath. He was taking a risk and he knew it. Nik had a good 3-4 inches and who knows how many pounds on him. And they were headed to a house most people in the town spent their lives avoiding. This could go badly very easily and no one would know for hours. But it was out there. He kept his eyes straight ahead. "Does that bother you?"

Nik grinned and shook his head. "I think you know it doesn't." He flashed a smile at Auguste and winked.

"Do you, you know, have a type?" He felt like he could breathe again. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. This was teenage flirting and he should be ashamed of being so immature.

"Yeah. I like blondes. I like dimples. I like pretty girls and pretty boys. Sarah, the waitress, she was right. You do look like Travis Fimmel back in his Calvin Klein days," Nik said with another smile in Auguste's direction.

"I've been hearing that for years. Surprisingly, Laurent hasn't heard it as much, but I think we look a lot alike," Auguste said, just thinking out loud.

"I like pretty boys," Nik said. "He's a little too pretty. You look alike, but..." Nik took a breath, obviously debating whether or not he wanted to continue."

"But?"

"But hand to God it took me a minute to realize he wasn't your little sister."

August threw his head back and cackled. The next time Laurent pulled one of his moods, this would be coming up. Not that it would be a complete surprise. Laurent was well aware of how beautiful he was. And women never reacted to Laurent the way they did to Auguste. Which was just as well. Laurent had little patience with flirting. Auguste, on the other hand, was happy to play along most of the time. The waitress earlier was a little much, but he still didn't hate it as much as Laurent did.

"It's almost 2. How long does it take for a guy to check a house foundation?" Auguste asked as they were pulling up to the house.

"Let me handle it and I can have him out of there in about 30 minutes," Nik said.

* * *

 

True to his word, Nik had the guy gone in just under half an hour. Auguste spent the time tidying up what he could of the inside which basically meant getting Laurent's things back in order and packing them up. He took the bags to the car and grabbed his own backpack. He'd packed supplies... just in case. He was glad there were no mirrors. He didn't need to see his reflection right now. Long flight, his hair being up and down since 7am. He knew it was a wreck. It fell several inches below his shoulders so there was plenty of it. Maybe he packed a brush... but Nik was already interested. He thought. At least they had a mattress. He had no idea where that came from. Laurent, his uncle, his father. His uncle was supposed to be staying here while the work was being done, but sleeping on a mattress just thrown on the floor? It was odd.

When he heard the door open behind him he turned and smiled at Nik. He didn't even have time to ask what the man said.

"Take off your clothes," Nik said, walking toward him. Stalking toward him... very predatory and very hot. "Take off your clothes."

 


	4. Burnin' Love Comes Once In A Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen overhears a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very short. I am almost done with the rest of this chapter and hopefully I will have it up tonight or tomorrow. Life kinda smacked me in the face, but it's all good now. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> (title is from Stone In Love by Journey)

 

  
DAMEN:

Damen was on his way downstairs when he heard voices. He didn't believe anyone else would be awake. Nik never was and Auguste and Laurent had no reason to be. There was a brief pause and he stepped forward to make his presence known, but he was a beat behind and it quickly became apparent that this wasn't just a lighthearted chat between siblings. 

"I don't understand why you're so mad at me." It was Auguste, his voice was pleading. "Just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong, Laurent, please. Are you mad because I couldn't go with you yesterday?"  
  
"Yes," Laurent said too quickly. "Why do you always let them do that to you?"  
  
"Do what to me?" Auguste's voice was a bit higher, a bit desperate to understand what was happening.

"Let them..." Laurent stopped, Damen heard him take a step and he was aware that he should not be there, but he was frozen in place. "Let them crawl on top of you and fuck you," now Laurent's voice was different. He was speaking too quickly. As if he had to get it out before he lost his nerve.

"What?" Damen couldn't tell if Auguste was about to laugh or scream.

"You don't even know this guy," Laurent was pleading. "You just let them use you for what they want. You don't have to do that."

"Use me? Laurent, no one uses me. They don't do anything I don't want them to do. Trust me. I like what I like. It's fun and it feels good. Where is this coming from?"

"It doesn't matter," Laurent said. He sounded so defeated.

"It doesn't have to be men for you know," Auguste's voice was soft again, soothing. He was trying to figure this out. "If you prefer women then..."

He heard Laurent laugh, a small, bitter laugh. "Be serious, Auguste."

"Ok. Look, if you don't want me to then I won't sleep with Nik anymore. We'll go the inn I booked. I checked. They still have our reservations."

"No, Auguste," Laurent said. "You know that's not it. I want you to be happy I just... can you just explain it to me. How does it feel good? Why do you like it so much?"

There was a pause. "Laurent," Auguste's voice was serious now. Very serious. "Has someone hurt you? Because all you have to do is tell me his name and I will end his life today." That was not an idle threat. That was simply a fact. It sent a chill over Damen's skin. 

"No," Laurent's denial was a little too eager. "It's not that, it's just. I don't know."

"I'm gonna go open the house for the workers. Why don't you come with me? Then we can go do whatever you want. And you can ask anything me you can think of, ok?"

When Laurent didn't answer, Damen knew it was time to sneak away. He shouldn't have listened and he felt a pang of guilt as he walked down the stairs. Nik was in the kitchen making coffee. When he saw Damen his smile told Damen everything. He was up and in a damn good mood way too early. 

"Try this," Nik said and tossed him a box of k-cups. 

"Why are you up?" Damen asked, completely aware that he didn't want the answer.

"I'm guessing my day and night was a lot more fun than yours. That little one has a mouth on him."

Damen laughed. "He's not little. We are sideshow big. Or circus large," he was still laughing and shaking his head. "And I'm kinda fond of the little one. I asked him how long his hair was and hand to god, Nik, I've never seen anyone take a ponytail down so aggressively." Damen scowls and jerks at his imaginary hair and shakes his head, mimicking Laurent's expression. "It was adorable."

"Please leave it alone, Damen. You do not need another toxic blonde right now. You don't ever need one, but you really don't need one now."

"He's a kitten, Nik. A spoiled, bratty kitten showing his claws."

"I don't think he is, Damen, but until we're sure... stay away. He might be a puma."

"A puma?" And Damen was laughing again. "Is he a shoe or a cat?"

"He's not big enough to be a tiger, but something tells me he can fuck you up if you give him a chance."

"Alright, man, I gotta go," Damen grabbed one of the coffee pods, tossed it in his bag, and patted Nik on the shoulder as he left. A puma. He was still laughing when his first class began.


	5. Just To Be There With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now it begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is from Electric Blue by Icehouse)

AUGUSTE:

The morning had been quiet after their talk. Auguste was stewing, rolling every word around in his head. It was there, an idea or revelation was there, but he just couldn't make the leap from his suspicions to something tangible. He was fine with Laurent not wanting to bed every man who looked his way. In true big brother fashion, a part of him wished Laurent could always be a virgin, but that was the problem. They'd talked enough for Laurent to admit more than once that he wasn't a virgin and now Auguste had a lot to unravel. He'd always tried to respect his privacy and when Laurent didn't offer a name, Auguste didn't press. And now he had more questions than ever. Was Laurent's experience so terrible that it could turn him celibate? That was both frightening and infuriating. Was it simply unfulfilling or was it worse? Was it violent? He'd ask, but Laurent would deny it. He would deny it for the rest of his life. Laurent would never admit to anything he'd view as weak and with Laurent's mind being the puzzle that it is, it would definitely interpret being overpowered as being weak. He liked to think he could best anyone and even if he wasn't physically strong enough, he would carry shame for being unable to think his way out. Auguste could almost see his brain spinning as he glanced over.

"You ok?" Auguste asked. Better to start small and find a way to navigate Laurent's world.

"I'm fine," was the only thing he said.

Laurent was kind of Auguste's mini-me. Even now they were dressed alike. Both had on ripped jeans, sweaters, old moto jackets and boots. Auguste looked a bit more boho with his messy hair and colorful bracelets, while Laurent looked regal. Like a model right off the runway with his hair piled on top of his head. It was almost art what Laurent could do with an elastic and clip or two. When they were younger Laurent wanting to do everything Auguste did was so aggravating, but as they got older, he realized what a compliment it was. Someone as intelligent and beautiful as Laurent looking up to him. He couldn't even remember why it was so annoying.

"You like the coffee?" Auguste had to break this awkward silence. They'd stopped at Jack's on their way out to the house. Nik mentioned their coffee and how it was new.

Apparently the people of Peachers Grove were denied lattes and espressos for many years. Auguste had a caramel latte and Laurent had a mocha. Laurent had ordered a pistachio rose latte, but the girl taking their order had simply stared at him, truly unsure about how to proceed. "We just have the..." her voice was slow as she pointed behind her at the menu. Their choices were limited. Auguste had to bite back a laugh as he watched the barista's reaction to Laurent. Like she had never heard of anything beyond the absolute basics - and considering where they were, the poor girl probably hadn't.

"I'm ready to go home. This place is too much." Laurent sounded defeated. He didn't elaborate and Auguste try to make him. Changing the subject was much better than giving Laurent time to simmer in his aggravations.

"So Damen's nice," Auguste said, smiling over at him as he turned off the highway and onto the road that led to the house. "He's hot." He had no idea how that was going to be taken.

"He's hotter than Nik," Laurent said and Auguste saw him biting back his own smile.

"Oh," Auguste said and laughed. "You're taking shots at me?" That was more like it. The mood was calm and perfect between them just like that. "Why do you think Uncle Reg wanted this place? He wasn't a small town kinda guy." It was a question that had been on Auguste's mind a lot. Especially after seeing the house in person. It was barely more than a shell. Restoring it was going to cost more than just tearing it down and building another one.

"He was a weird guy, Aug. I don't know why he did anything he did," Laurent said as he was getting out. He put Ragnar down and came around to Auguste's side, holding his hand out for the keys. "Do we have to stay until they get here?"

"Yes, but they'll be here in about 15 minutes. Get the front, I'll get the back," Auguste took a key off the ring and gave it to Laurent. He couldn't help but smile as he watched Ragnar bouncing behind Laurent. All four pounds of her in a little white knitted hoodie with a pink tutu attached. It was a gift from their mother. All of Ragnar's clothes came from their mother. She even had pics of Ragnar on her phone to show her friends. She was so taken with her "granddog" that it was adorable. Laurent had taken each gift with thanks and a smile, but he rarely put them on her at first. The one day Auguste noticed that she was shaking and after a frantic trip to the vet, the doctor told them she was cold. It was a thing with tiny dogs, especially chihuahuas. He told them to get her a hoodie. So now she had a wardrobe that would dwarf those of most babies.

Once they were both inside Auguste went to check on the stairs to the basement. No one could go down them, but he was hoping a ladder would give the men access. He still wasn't sure about the foundation. That was something Nik was handling. He also agreed to do the wiring, but that would be later in the process. He had to jerk the door open and when he did, he dislodged something that went crashing down into the darkness. "Fuck," he said to himself, peering down with the flashlight. There was so much debris that it was impossible to know what he'd dropped. 

"Oh, Auguste!" Laurent yelled in a tone Auguste had rarely heard.

"What?" Auguste asked, running into the room. He was always impressed with how fast he could move if he thought Laurent needed him. "Are you alright?" He was checking Laurent, who was allowing it with displeasure.

"Ragnar just ran out when she heard the crash. She went into the woods. I might need your flashlight..."

"I'll get her. Stay here and wait for the guys. The house is open, they know what they're doing. Just give a quick walk through and make sure they have what they need." It might be better for him to be there in case they had questions, but no possible way Laurent was going into the woods alone. "Just. Stay," he said already out the door. He wasn't going to give Laurent a chance to argue.

When he got to the tree line he thought about Nik's stories and he hesitated for a moment. He couldn't remember if you were ok in the day or if you had to be looking for the "fires" or whatever. It wouldn't matter if he had to fight through an entire army of ghouls, he had to find Ragnar. She was never out of Laurent's sight. If she couldn't go somewhere then Laurent probably wasn't going either.

The woods were dense. Much denser than they looked. He didn't need the flashlight in some places, but others were completely black. Calling out her name, he pushed deeper and deeper and he wondered if he was going to be able to find his way out. She came out of nowhere, faster than her tiny legs should be able to go. And she went right to him, jumping to be picked up. 

When he started back, he realized he was lost. All he could see, even in the distance, were trees. He picked up a rock and tried to mark one, but that was useless. So he wandered for what felt like hours. Or it might have been hours. He didn't check the time. He had just passed an enormous mass of trees when things finally started to look familiar and he stumbled. He caught himself and turned to look at what was in his way and then he saw it. A small hand sticking out of the ground. Not skeletal, but decomposing and green and purple. His mind went back to the story, but this was not the grave of a child out of a local legend. This was not a ghost story, this was the body of a real child. Auguste wasn't sure what to do. Did he stay and call? Did he go back and try to find this again? He hadn't seen it coming in so he would have no way to find it if he left. Looking up and around, at the ground, the leaves, the rocks... the sticks. The sticks. That would have to work so he gathered as many as he could carry and stuck them in the dirt, leaving a trail, as he made his way back. When he finally stepped out of the woods and saw the house, he broke into a run.

"Where have you been?" Laurent was scared, not something Auguste had seen very often. He ran to meet Auguste and he stopped him. Auguste felt Lauren'ts hands on his cheeks. "What's wrong?" 

"Get in the car," Auguste said, still cradling Ragnar. "Get in the car right now."

"Auguste, what..."

Auguste was fumbling with his phone as he got in and started the ignition. He knew he had to call the police, but he also knew there was a killer or killers who could be close. Men who knew this place.

"There's a body in the woods," was all he said until the dispatcher picked up. Even then he wasn't sure what to say, how to explain this. He just hoped the damn sticks held up so they could find their way without him. The thought of having to go back in, to see it again, nearly made his heart stop, but this child had parents and a family. They needed to know so he'd do what needed to be done. Then there was a voice on the phone. He tried explaining, but he stumbled over his words, his thoughts conflicting and twisting together and he simply let the phone fall from his hands after he'd gotten confirmation they were on the way. Laurent didn't press him for answers. He just stayed as close to Auguste as possible. He didn't offer silly words of comfort or try and coddle him. He was there. Laurent's hand on his thigh. Auguste wasn't sure when the officers arrived. He was existing in a vacuum. Luckily the markers held and he didn't have to go back in and lead them to the grave. Was it a grave? A crime scene? He wanted to drive away and never think about this again. Laurent took charge of the situation, did most of the talking and led them to the place Auguste came out of the woods. Auguste was only speaking when he had to, staring off into the distance. He could barely hear the words that were being spoken to him and then Laurent was leading him back to the car.

"They think they know who it is," Laurent said, running his fingers lightly up and down Auguste's arm. Their mother and grandmother did that when they were small. It was comforting, a familiar feeling.

A middle aged man, balding, with a deep smoker's voice finally approached the car. Auguste got out with Laurent in case he needed to answer more questions. "It's probably a boy we were looking for this summer. Matches the description, matches the clothes. " He didn't offer an identity. "If the family has any questions, do you mind speaking to them?"

Oh fuck no, was all Auguste could think, but he nodded anyway. He would never deny the parents if they wanted to talk, if they had questions. It was the least he could do.

"Weren't the woods searched?" Laurent asked. "Don't kids play in them? You know, the stories." Laurent was holding Auguste's hand, running his thumb along Auguste's knuckles. Just having him close was comforting. Auguste didn't think he could have held up without him.

"Didn't your uncle mention this?" the officer asked. He'd told them his name, Auguste didn't remember. Auguste didn't care.

"No," Laurent said. "Why would he?"

"He helped. He helped a lot. He was there for the family, talked to their bosses, got them extra time off, covered their bills." The man paused. "He even led search parties through the woods all around the house." Beside him he felt Laurent shiver, heard his breath catch, and felt his fingers being crushed as Laurent's grip on his hand tightened. "Your uncle was a good man," the officer said, nodding. "A damn good man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone interested in helping me edit? Bounce ideas around? Please?


	6. Love Songs Fill The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days after the discovery and a corn maze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is from Valerie by Steve Winwood)

DAMEN: 

Seth Hendrick was 18 days away from his 14th birthday when he disappeared. He was in Damen's third period class the year before. His parents were honest, good people. His father, Daryl, was well loved around the town. He was a hard working handyman in both Peachers Grove and the neighboring town, Leesville. Seth was a good kid. He wasn't the best student, but he tried hard, turned his assignments in on time and did well on the quizzes and tests. He was already thinking about college and a life outside Peachers Grove. He had an ambitious streak and big plans for the future. His parents reported him missing on a Sunday and by the following weekend, after a few searches of the woods and a less than thorough examination of his social media accounts and texts, he was declared a runaway. The town accepted it easily enough. Even his parents believed it. Of course, believing Seth was a runaway was much easier than believing he was dead... or worse. It gave them hope. Hope that he might one day come back. But it left many questions. Two days ago that hope was snuffed out. Two days ago a lot of those questions were answered. 

Damen was just wrapping up the last class of his day when he got the text. All after school activities were cancelled for the rest of the week and therapists from Nashville were brought in the following day. The other schools in town did same thing. Small town, after all. Most kids knew each other. Seth's murder didn't just affect the kids at Jimmy Carter Middle School. Murders just didn't happen. Not in Peachers Grove. These kids proved to be a lot stronger than anyone expected. Damen couldn't imagine being 13 and having to deal with the violent death of a friend. His mind kept replaying the last time he'd seen Seth. The entire town was at the annual 4th of July picnic and Seth was excited to start high school. With Damen's help he'd managed to narrow his college choices to a list of five. Damen saw something in him. The kid needed encouragement. His home life wasn't easy. He was the oldest by eight years, with younger twin siblings who were born way too early. Seth's mother, Darlene, worked in the cafeteria at the elementary school. It was barely part time pay and non existent in the summer, but it helped a little. She couldn't find anything full time because she was needed at home. The twins were never going to be independent. They were covered under the state insurance program and eligible for some aid, but not much. Not nearly as much as they needed. Damen's father and brother had hired Seth to work in the summer and after school on the farm. They paid well, triple what any other farm would because that was one way to help the family. The family refused to take pity money from their friends and neighbors... until Seth disappeared. A part of them disappeared with him.

* * *

 

 

Damen got the message just as class was letting out. The Hendricks wanted to meet Auguste and Damen had no idea how it was going to go. The two of them were sitting in the family's driveway in Damen's truck. Laurent and Nik were waiting for them at back at the house. It would have been much smarter to leave them with other people. Damen didn't know what the problem between them was, but it didn't appear to be going away anytime soon. Nik was just so adamant that Damen keep his distance. 

"What am I supposed to say to these people?"

Auguste was in a panic. Damen could see the signs even though he was trying very hard to conceal it. He wasn't nearly as good at that as Laurent was. Damen had spent a lot of time with them over the past few days and he was confident that Laurent could hide his emotions from anyone, at any given time. Not Auguste. They were so alike and yet completely different. Auguste was wild and free. All light and laughter. He couldn't bury that. Not even behind the fear and shock of literally tripping over dead body. He had his moments, but even then it was his eyes. He experienced something awful, but it didn't kill that flame inside him. It might have dimmed it for a moment, but not much. It was that flame that had him tied in knots. He was passionate. He felt everything deeply. Maybe too deeply.

"How do I look?" Auguste asked with a nervous laugh. He pulled the visor in Damen's car down and slid the mirror open. 

"It's not gonna get any better," Damen said, joking, smiling at him. His hair was piled on his head, strands falling out, some tucked behind his ears, and three days dirty at that point. He'd spent a lot of time talking to Laurent, their father, and the police. He was taking 4 minute showers just to avoid being alone. Even though Nik would have been happy to keep him company if he was asked, but they hadn't been spending any time alone. It was easy to see what had Nik so enthralled, though. Auguste was a beauty. "I think this is going to be cathartic for you and them. You can relax, kid," Damed winked at him. "I've known these people my entire life. They don't care about your hair. They just want to meet you and thank you." No sense in letting his own doubts and concerns put even more pressure on Auguste.

"Thank me?" That caught Auguste off guard. 

"Thank you," Damen said softly. "You gave them some closure. It's not the outcome they were hoping for, but they know." Damen opened his door and looked across at Auguste. "Now, come on. We need to get this done and get back to the house before Laurent and Nik kill each other."

"Ok?" Damen asked once they were on the porch. He had one hand on the small of Auguste's back and the other on the doorbell. "It's gonna be fine."

Once inside Daryl and Darlene had coffee and a plate of cookies ready. The couple told them all sorts of stories about Seth, showing them album after album of pictures. Auguste was perfect. He held Darlene's hand when she had to pause. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he listened to every word and he didn't try to hide them or wipe them away. That's all she seemed to need. Someone to sit and listen. She thanked Auguste again and again for his uncle's generosity. Damen was surprised to hear that Seth knew the man well. He was helping him, mentoring and tutoring the boy. He'd even offered to pay tuition to any college Seth chose. They were every bit as charmed by Auguste as Damen and Nik were. Darlene even wanted to introduce Auguste to the twins, Brittany and Heather. He followed her to their bed and crouched down to greet them.

"You're a boy, but you have hair like a princess." Heather said, reaching out to touch his hair. 

"Do you like princesses?" Auguste asked with a smile even as a new wave of tears rolled down his cheeks. Sick kids were heartbreaking to the toughest of people. Auguste didn't stand a chance.  
  
When both the girls nodded, Auguste sat down on the floor beside their bed and let them tell him about every princess they could think of. He clearly had no idea about any of it, but he listened. He asked questions, he was paying attention and not just humoring them. Damen stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and just watched. He wondered how Laurent would handle this. He suspected he'd be a lot like Auguste.

When it was finally time for them to leave, Auguste tucked the girls in and promised to come visit again. More thanks and hugs were shared at the door. It was an emotional evening, but there was a sense of calm between them on the ride back. 

"They need a bigger house," Auguste said. 

"They do," Damen agreed. "But they are probably not going to take a handout. Not even from you." 

"It doesn't have to be a handout," Auguste said. Damen wasn't sure what he was planning, but he had a faraway look. The rest of the drive was quiet, a comfortable, easy peace settled between them. 

* * *

 

 

"He threw a spider at me." Laurent was not pleased as he walked into the kitchen to greet them.  If that could be called a greeting. Damen barely had the door open.

"It was barn spider, Damen, so stop looking at me like that." Nik was right behind him, determined to have his side heard.  "And I didn't throw it at him. I took it off the wall because he's screeching like he's never seen a spider before in his life. He asked me what it was, I showed him, it kinda... jumped."

"A barn spider jumped, Nik?" Damen was suspicious.

"It doesn't need to jump when it's thrown," Laurent said before turning to look at Auguste, hurrying to his side. "Why is he crying?" he asked Damen. "What did you do to him, you giant animal?"

Auguste shook his head and pressed a finger to Laurent's lips. "Shh," he said. "We have a lot to talk about. I need for you to be less... whatever this is." His finger gently tapping Laurent's mouth. It was oddly hot. 

"A spider..." Laurent said against Auguste's finger, his voice lower. Auguste shook his head, still tapping, and kissed Laurent on the nose. Something that seemed to annoy him even more.

"I'll make some coffee," Auguste said. 

Laurent opted to stay with Auguste as Nik and Damen walked into the living room.

As soon as they were around the corner, Damen slapped the back of Nik's head. "What is wrong with you? Did you throw a spider on him?" He waited as Nik cocked his jaw to one side. "Nikandros? Did you throw a spider on him?"

"A little," Nik finally said.

* * *

 

 

Spiders aside, the rest of the night went well. Auguste and Laurent figured out what they wanted to do. They had the idea mapped out and they needed input from Damen and Nik for the details. A quick Zillow search turned up several vacant properties and they began trying to figure out which one would be best suited to the plans. Damen mentioned that Seth was an animal lover, but his family wasn't able to have pets. The property they rented was owned by a group in Nashville and pets weren't allowed, but even if they were, there was no extra money available for the care of one. At one point Damen had stopped and just watched Auguste and Laurent, both becoming more and more excited. Yeah, Auguste was a beauty, but Laurent was exquisite. If he didn't know, he might think they were brother and sister at a glance. Laurent caught Damen staring and tried his best to look angry, but that face wasn't made for scowling. Auguste being excited automatically meant Laurent being excited. 

"I'll call Dad in the morning," Auguste said. "You look for local architects. Find one who's willing to work with us instead of pushing pre-designed plans. Research them, get references," he said to Laurent. "And you know them so try and figure out exactly what will and won't work. What do they need to make caring for the twins easier? Walk-in bathtubs, wider hallways so they can move a wheelchair through if they need to, stair lifts, that kind of thing," he said to Damen as he was standing.

"And where are you going?" Laurent asked. 

"Oh, I'm going to take a long bath and then I'm going to bed. I came up with the idea. I'll see you in the morning." After a few steps "Nikandros, you coming?"

Nik glanced over at Laurent who narrowed his eyes and without ever looking away, "Hell yes." He smirked in Laurent's direction and Damen, sitting behind him, shook his head. A warning. 

Laurent looked back at Damen.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Damen asked stretching as he walked into the kitchen. "We have beer, wine, we can pop some popcorn. You like Rob Zombie?" Laurent didn't answer him and when Damen came back into the room, it was empty. He was not surprised.

 

LAURENT:

The things he did for his brother. He would have been perfectly happy packing up for the trip home. Two days ago Auguste was with him, but now his interest in this place was renewed. Laurent could admit he was excited to help the Hendricks, but it meant staying even longer and he was torn. 

So here he was at the entrance of a huge corn maze on Damen's family farm. An actual maze in a damn cornfield. Damen's brother greeted them along with his pregnant wife. Jokaste, he thought. Jo-something. Damen didn't seem too excited about becoming an uncle and Nik was practically foaming at the mouth. Laurent really wasn't all that concerned with Nik's feelings. The fucker threw a spider at him. What did concern him was Auguste and the way he seemed to be trying to calm Nik down.  The leaves had begun to change and it seemed to be happening overnight. The clouds rolled by almost as fast as the corn stalks swayed. It looked like rain, but Damen assured them rain wasn't in the forecast. It was a perfect day for this and Laurent wanted to be almost anywhere else.

"So," a voice from behind said. "Laurent, was it?" He turned and saw Kastor. He was tall, handsome, not nearly as handsome as Damen, though. He was also unbelievably large. Laurent had no idea why the guy was talking to him.

"Congratulations," Laurent said. Just so he wouldn't be standing there staring at the guy. The man, however, was just standing there staring at him. He was almost leering. "The baby?" Laurent said, nodding toward the woman who was now openly glaring at him. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Small talk wasn't really Laurent's thing.

He never got an answer because Damen swooped in. 

"Sorry about that," he mumbled, ushering Laurent away. Laurent had no idea why he was apologizing, but he was thankful for the interference. Damen called out to Nik and Auguste and waved them over. "Alright," he said. "This is supposed to be doable in less than three hours. "We'll go one way and you two go the other. Losers buy all the drinks tonight." 

"If we could just all go together I will buy you the entire bar," Laurent said. He wasn't consulted about this competition, but Auguste was smiling, he was happy again. And all three of them were ignoring Laurent and his offer.

Auguste leaned over, pulled Laurent to him and whispered, "I really like this guy, Laurent." And there was no arguing with that. Auguste had always been there for him. He wouldn't deny his brother anything even though he had to admit this was unusual. Auguste didn't like guys. Not like this. He didn't want to spend time with them doing silly things like corn mazes. He had his fun and he sent them on their way. Nik had something and even if Laurent didn't understand, he had never doubted Auguste and he wasn't going to start now. Auguste deserved this. He'd been through hell the last few days so if he wanted to wander around a cornfield then Laurent  was willing to do whatever it took to make him happy. Even if it meant he was going to spend the next several hours wandering around said cornfield with Damen. 

"Did he really throw a spider on you?" Damen asked as soon as they parted with Auguste and Nik.

Laurent wasn't sure he could stand another interview. "Yes," he said. Short, to the point. 

Damen laughed. Why was this guy so happy all the time? He was smiling first thing in the morning, he was smiling at night. Even with everything happening, he still smiled. He had to be the most positive person Laurent had ever met. It was infuriating. 

"He sort of tossed it," Laurent added. "It landed on my arm." Why was he explaining this? 

"I know a couple of architects. If you need some names," Damen said.

"That'd be great, actually." Laurent nodded and glanced up at him. He could deal with this. Talking about Auguste's ideas. Much better than being grilled about himself.

"Does he do this a lot? Get an idea and run with it?"

"Yes. He does this all the time. He can't stand to see suffering," Laurent answered. It was the truth. Auguste was a kind soul. He wasn't someone who allowed others to use and manipulate him, but when he saw a situation he could improve, he did whatever it took to improve it. There was no stopping him. Once Auguste mentioned the kids, Laurent knew this was going to happen with or without help from him, Damen or Nik. It just so happened that Laurent agreed with his brother on this one. He usually did whatever Auguste asked him of him, but it was always nice to feel the same way. 

"I think your uncle would have done the same," Damen said. 

"Don't." Laurent said sternly. "I don't want to talk about him." His uncle absolutely would not. He didn't care about anyone or anything unless it served his own needs.

"Sorry. Just when Seth's parents were telling us about your uncle mentoring him last night I just..."

"What?" Laurent stopped, looked up at Damen. "He was what?" He was suddenly cold all over and he hoped he wasn't noticeably shivering.

"He was mentoring Seth, tutoring him. He was gonna pay to send him to college," Damen sounded confused. He was almost asking Laurent instead of telling him. 

"I have to go," Laurent said, turning around. Ragnar close behind him. That boy would have never gotten anything. He was probably no more than 6 months away from being completely forgotten, but he certainly couldn't say that to Damen. 

"Wait, wait," Damen said, jogging to cut Laurent off. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You said you didn't want to talk about it and I should have listened. We can talk about whatever you want. Or we don't even have to talk at all," he said softly, taking Laurent's hand. 

Laurent couldn't stop his breath from hitching when Damen touched him. That was something he was going to have to sort out later. He looked up at Damen. His face was so sincere, so pleading. He had to keep telling himself that this day meant a lot to Auguste so he nodded and turned back around. They walked in surprisingly comfortable silence for several minutes. Ragnar was running ahead of them then coming back, barking. She stood up on her hind legs, begging to be picked up only to bark and want to be put back down just minutes later. She never strayed far from Laurent, never getting to a point where she couldn't see him. 

"I don't think I've actually seen her walk before today. Not more than a few steps anyway," and Damen was smiling again. When Laurent didn't answer, he glanced down at the dog again. "Your bracelet matches her collar." 

"Yeah," Laurent said. "Auguste has one too. They lock on. My mom had her collar made to match. It doesn't lock, though." Again, why was he explaining? And of course it didn't lock. What idiot would literally lock a collar on a pet?

"You packed more clothes for her than you did for yourself," Damen smiled down at her and then raised an eyebrow in Lauren't direction.

"My mom buys her something every time she goes shopping. And she shops a lot." Ragnar was wearing a tiny pink velour hoodie with Hello Kitty surrounded by rhinestones. "I didn't put them on her at first, but the the vet told me to get her some hoodies to keep her warm because she was shivering all the time."

Damen was just gazing at him. Laurent looked straight ahead, done with this subject.

"So how do you like our little town? How does it compare to LA?" Damen was creepily good at reading his moods. 

Laurent scoffed and looked up at him. "Have you ever been to LA?" And the conversation seemed to take off again. 

"I gotta admit I'm a little jealous of you and Auguste. My brother and I have never really been close," Damen said, his voice lower than usual. 

"You're going to be an uncle, though? Right?" Laurent who was curious about this situation. It was Damen's turn to be interviewed.

"A few months earlier and I could have been a father."

"Oh," Laurent said. "Oh." The meaning behind Damen's words revealed. "Wow." He didn't really know what to say to that. 

"Yeah. I don't think we're going to be wearing matching bracelets anytime soon." Damen winked at Laurent. Just like that he was back and the conversation was easy again. 

* * *

 

"Wait, wait. So he made you pancakes?" Damen asked after Laurent told him about a run-in he had with a celebrity at Auguste's house a few summers ago.

"Not just pancakes," Laurent said. He was actually laughing at the memory. "Vegan pancakes. And either his recipe sucked or he couldn't cook because they were awful. Auguste managed to get rid of him and we went to IHOP." Then he remembered that he didn't like Damen. "Are we lost? Tell me we are not lost in your dad's corn maze."

"I..." Damen stopped and looked around. 

Laurent rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"You know," he said, looking around. "If you stood on my shoulders you might be able to see the way out."

"You're willing to cheat?" 

"You want to get out of here?"

"Let's just keep going," Laurent said. He wasn't sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, observations, ideas, suggestions are always appreciated!


	7. I Never Did Suspect A Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen and Laurent visit the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super huge thank you to Just_a_simple_trash_can! I appreciate your suggestions and helping me sort things out! Thank you so much!
> 
> (title is from Caught Up In You by 38 Special)

 

DAMEN:

"So who are they, Mr. D?" Tyson, a student in Damen's last class of the day, was currently grilling him for details on Auguste and Laurent. Peachers Grove didn't get a lot of visitors. Especially not the sort who drove expensive new cars and looked like the De Vere boys looked. It was Friday afternoon and it had been a very long week so Damen relaxed the rules. The kids needed a distraction as much as he did. Many of them were very close to Seth and his funeral combined with the investigation had taken a toll on everyone. 

"They're just visiting," Damen said, trying to stop this conversation before it had the chance to begin. "They're just here to settle their uncle's business." He hated to think that was true, though. Laurent wasn't easy to get along with, but Damen had a feeling he'd be worth the effort. And Nik was going to inconsolable when Auguste left.

"Tyson thinks they're hot!" The class roared to life with laughter. Alex Dickerson had been a bully for as long as Damen had known him. He always had something to say and it was never nice. He was especially vicious when it came to sexuality. Of course, very few people in Peachers Grove knew that Damen enjoyed the company of men as much as he did the company of women so it could be challenging to get a grip on situations like this. He had to be tactful and objective... two things that rarely worked with 13-year-olds.  

Hey," Damen said, his voice loud, clear and stern. "We're not doing that," he paused. "You understand me?" Of course the kid understood him. Damen knew his  parents and Alex was very aware that a visit from Damen meant nothing good for him.  Damen had his own suspicions about what brought this out in Alan, but that really made no difference at that moment. Alex certainly didn't look sorry, but he also didn't say anything else. Damen could not been happier to dismiss the class. 

"Hey, D!" 

Damen looked up and smiled when he saw Jack Miller pushing his way through the students. Jack was 17 and the star quarterback at the neighboring high school. He already had a full ride lined up at the University of Tennessee - the same university that made Peyton Manning a star. Damen played football as a teenager and also went to college on a scholarship, but he didn't really care about going pro. He enjoyed playing, he loved the atmosphere at games, and coaching was extremely rewarding, but he was not cut out for the NFL. Maybe in another life. He was exceptionally proud of Jack, though. He had been coaching him one way or another since Jack was 9. He loved the kid.

Jack wanted some advice about Saturday's game and the two talked as Damen packed up, shut down his room, and walked out into the teachers parking lot. About ten feet from Damen's truck, Jack stopped mid sentence. "Thanks, D, I was just... whoa."

Laurent was sitting on the top of Damen's truck playing on his phone. Ragnar was curled up in a ball in his lap. She was wearing another hoodie. Damen had seen Laurent and that dog every day and he couldn't remember seeing her wear the same outfit twice. 

"This truck is as obnoxiously large as you are." Laurent never even looked at them as he started climbing down.

"Is that yours, D?" Jack was in obvious awe. Damen wasn't surprised because Jack, like Damen, liked boys almost as much as he liked girls. He tearfully confessed to Damen one night after a bartender just outside Nashville called Damen and asked him to come get the boy. Football was serious business in Tennessee and Jack was good, he had a future, local football fans knew him and they knew calling the police could easily end that future. So the guy asked who he could call and Jack gave him Damen's number. Damen had absolutely no ground to stand on when it came to teenage dumbassery because he was an awful kid so he didn't really scold Jack. Drunk as he was, it wouldn't have mattered if he had. On the drive back Damen asked him what he was thinking and Jack blurted out the entire saga. A crush on a teammate. Damen had to admit that was probably enough to make a teenage boy to drink so he let the matter drop. Jack slept off in one of Damen's spare bedrooms and the following morning, when he was somewhat sober, Damen told him he could always come to him with anything. 

"That's not mine," he said, softly. He didn't want Laurent to hear any of this. 

"Can I take a shot?" Jack asked, way too hopeful and way too cocky for his own good.

"Go to practice, Jack," was all Damen said. 

"Hey," Jack said as Laurent approached. He gave Laurent a grin that almost always worked on teenage girls and Laurent looked from Damen back to the kid, his eyes narrowed, and Damen knew what was about to happen.

"Go to practice, Jack," Damen said again. This time louder and way more annoyed. "Now!" he added when the kid didn't budge, Not that Damen could blame him. Laurent had the same effect on Damen and he was a grown man.

Damen waited until Jack was far enough away before smiling at Laurent. "What are you doing here? And how did you get all the way up there with the dog?" That couldn't have been easy.

"I need to go back to my uncle's house," he said. He wasn't as haughty as usual. "I just talked to the cops and they cleared it. Auguste has the workers coming back Monday. And he's gone tonight so I need to do this now."

"Where'd he go?" Damen asked. Laurent hadn't shown any interest in being alone with him before so it was a little suspicious.

"He went to Nashville with Nik. They're going to some club called Play." Laurent being open and somewhat pleasant was something Damen had not really seen before..

"Really? There's a big drag show, right?" Damen asked, his mind jumping around. He didn't know where that question came from. His brain was warring with itself trying to figure out what Laurent was up to.

"God, I hope so," :Laurent said with a laugh. "Auguste is terrified of clowns and some drag queens freak him out too. That should be fun for Nik. Especially if Auguste is drinking."

Damen barked out a laugh that shocked even him. Something about Laurent's tone just struck him. He could be an evil little thing, but he was quick, witty. And as beautiful as always. Damen took a moment to look him over. He was wearing faded black jeans, the same jacket and the boots he had been wearing for two weeks now. His hair was down, though, and he had on sunglasses so Damen couldn't really see if his eyes were as icy as usual, but something told him they weren't. There was a different mood around him today. They were already in the truck before it occurred to Damen to ask why they were going to the house, on a Friday night, without Auguste.

"So exactly what are we doing? And why don't you want Auguste to know?" Damen started the truck.

"What kind of truck is this?" Laurent asked. As if he was going to change the subject just like that.

"1974 Ford F-250 Highboy and I knew you don't care, Laurent. Now answer the question."

After a few more attempts at stalling or changing the subject, Damen finally threatened to call Nik and tell him to bring Auguste back and Laurent reluctantly started talking.

"I want to see if Seth's phone is in the house," he said, staring out the window.

"Seth's phone? Wha-why?"

"It's just a feeling, ok? I can't really explain it." Laurent was speaking much softer now. A completely different person was sitting beside Damen. That's why Damen didn't push. This didn't feel like Laurent simply being difficult. 

"I guess it could be there. Seth knew your uncle," Damen wasn't sure what to say, really, and the conversation died until they were pulling up to the front of the house. Laurent was out and at the door in a flash, Ragnar was right behind him. Her little legs nothing more than a blur, but she kept up. 

"Check in there," Laurent said, nodding toward a room off to the left before tossing his jacket across a workbench. "If my uncle hid it, he probably meant for it to stay hidden so it's not gonna be easy to find."

Damen nodded and did as he was told. wondering why Laurent's uncle might have Seth's phone. To be honest, he wasn't even sure Seth had a phone. He had a school laptop and the cops had already searched that.

Damen spent nearly an hour going over the kitchen before he noticed a tile in the back of the room. It was filthy, but as he looked closer he saw that the green was just a shade off. It wasn't really hidden all that well so Damen had no idea what to expect since every teenager that lived in Peachers Grove had been through this house. His best guess was drugs. He put his palm flat on the tile and tried to scoot it one why or the other. It was loose, but it didn't give. He finally had to use a pocket knife to pry it up. Under it was a plastic bag. The floor under it had been dug out to accommodate the items. He sat back and opened it, not wanting it to bother Laurent with some kid's stash of porn and weed. The bag itself was dark and covered with dirt. Whoever it belonged to had abandoned it months ago. Damen sat back against the wall and opened it. The first thing that came out was a new smartphone. Not Seth's. His parents wouldn't have been able to afford it. The next was a stack of photos. They weren't new. They had been taken years ago and handled often. Damen held the first up into the fading afternoon light to get a better look. He felt dizzy as the image came into focus. A boy maybe Seth's age. All of the photos were of the same kid. He looked familiar, but no one he recognized immediately. They weren't explicit photos, but they were enough to make Damen uncomfortable. When he went to put them back something caught his eye. The boy had a mole on his shoulder.

Damen's breathe stuck in his throat and he realized what he was looking at. He realized who he was looking at. He realized what was going on. He'd seen that mole when he bumped into Laurent as he was coming out of the shower one night. And instantly he knew. It had always been in the back of his mind, nagging, but he couldn't sort it out. Not until that moment. The venomous words, the aloofness, all meant to keep everyone away, the questions he'd heard him ask Auguste about Nik, it all snowballed together until everything was clear. For a second he didn't know what to do, he had no idea how to handle this. He knew he had to navigate this situation gently, though, and to be ready for an explosion of anger or fear. There was no denying that he saw them. He considered putting them back in the bag and giving it to Laurent, but he wasn't going to let Laurent live with this nightmare alone. Not anymore. He pushed himself up, his legs unsteady as he walked out.

"Laurent," he called. 

Laurent came around the corner, his knees dusty from crawling around. His eyes went to the bag in Damen's hand. He looked back up at him and grabbed it. Damen stepped back and let Laurent have some space as he opened it. He face was frozen as he looked through the pictures. He was quiet. Too quiet. And rigid. His back was perfectly straight and when he finally looked up at Damen, Damen expected absolute fury, but that's not what he saw. At least not at first. For a fraction of a second he saw a child. The child Laurent had been. He saw the childhood that had been ripped away from him. He saw fear. The man was dead, but some small part of Laurent was still scared of him. Then came the fury. It was carefully calculated. It almost looked like Laurent thought anger was the correct reaction because it didn't reach his eyes. 

"Did you see this?" he asked. His voice was unrecognizable. It was small, cracked. Damen didn't even have to answer. Laurent knew as soon as he looked at him. 

"I didn't... I thought it was just some kid's stash, you know? Something he didn't want his parents to find." He stopped when Laurent held his hand up. Damen wasn't sure what came next. The training he'd gone through to recognize abuse in children didn't prepare him for a situation like this. It didn't tell him what to say or whether to just stay quiet or go to him, offer comfort. So he just stayed still, stayed in his own space. It was probably better that way, better to let Laurent make a decision for Damen. Whatever Laurent wanted, Damen would be there, Damen would do it. He hoped Laurent knew that.

"You can't tell Auguste." 

"I wouldn't. I would never do that. Laurent," Damen said, almost taking a small step forward before pulling himself back. Stay still, don't intrude. He just needed to make Laurent understand that he would never betray him. "I would never do that." Damen had questions, so many questions. "Did he... with Auguste?" His voice was a whisper.

"No," Laurent shook his head, a small laugh stuttering in his throat. "He would never. Not Auguste. Auguste is my dad's golden child. He was an athlete, he was popular, he's handsome, he's everything my dad wanted in his kid." He sniffed, he was blinking back tears. "You can't tell anyone," he said. "Promise me, Damen," he said, his voice weaker with every breath. "Not even Nik."

Damen was nodding, but he was suddenly sorry the man was dead because It robbed Damen of the pleasure of killing him. "Not even Nik," was all he could say.

Everything about Laurent made sense to him now. Of course he wanted to be Auguste. Whatever Auguste was had kept him safe. And deep down he thought Auguste needed to know, but it wasn't his place to say that even though Damen knew that he'd want to know if he was in Auguste's position. How did someone live with this for so long? In the photos Laurent couldn't have been more than 12. That was an entire decade with this awful secret. How often did Laurent think about it? How often did it intrude on his mind? He knew every victim was different. He internally  cringed at that word. Victim. Laurent wasn't a victim. Not to Damen. Victim implied weakness, it implied that pity was necessary. No one lived with something like this for ten years and stayed weak. Laurent might be the strongest person Damen had ever met. Ragnar barked suddenly, jerking Damen back into the moment.  The little dog made sense too. Her name made sense. Everything fell into place and yet Damen had never been so confused. 

"So,:" Laurent said, wiping his cheeks, forcing a smile. "Are you hungry? I could use a drink." His jaw was still clenched.

Damen wasnt sure how long they'd been there, but the sun was setting. Damen wasn't really hungry. Not after all this. His stomach felt like it had been flipped inside out. His entire body felt like that. The photos were still in Laurent's hand and the silence between them was tense, awkward. Then Damen remembered the phone that was still in his hand.

"I think we might have found Seth's phone," he said and held it out for Laurent. "At first I didn't think it was because...." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I don't have a clue how we get into it." Damen knew plenty of sites existed to simply walk someone through opening a phone that didn't belong to him, but he wasn't sure if they worked. He wasn't sure there was anything about Seth on the phone to begin with, but it was obviously important enough to be hidden. "I'm gonna go see if there's anything else in there," he let his voice trail off as he turned. He needed a moment to get himself together. The dog was still  barking. 

"Ok, Ragnar, ok," he heard Laurent say. He heard his footsteps in the other room. He heard the door open. And he heard Laurent say, "Oh my God." His voice still shaky. 

Damen turned around we back, stepped out onto the porch next to Laurent. The night was crisp, the sunset washing everything with an orange glow. He looked over and saw the light bouncing off Laurent's hair and then realized it wasn't really the sun and turned his attention back to the edge of trees.

The fires. The woods were blazing. He'd always heard about one or two fires, but he was looking at over a dozen just standing on the porch. He moved in front of Laurent and told him to stay, even though Laurent wasn't moving, and walked around entire clearing. They were everywhere, dotted through the woods. Some were close to the treeline, some were farther back. The trees had lost most of their leaves so that even the darkest parts were glowing. But there was no smoke, no smell. No way could that many fires exist without smell or smoke. They weren't spreading either. He'd lived in Peachers Grove his entire life and he'd never believed this was possible. He'd never seen anything even a little strange. He'd think about it later, though. He'd read and research and look for answers later. The most important thing at the moment was getting Laurent to safety. Getting them both to safety. He could worry about how completely fucking impossible this was later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have my own little playlist for this story. It's all classic southern rock since it's really more of a Nik and Damen setting. That's where all the chapter names are from. haha, if anyone cares. Also, if you are reading this then thank you so much! Let me know what you think!


	8. You're My Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nik and Auguste go on an adventure. Damen and Laurent have some explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homophobic language in the beginning of the third second section.
> 
> (title is from My Kinda Lover by Billy Squier)

NIK: 

Nikandros was currently sitting in a holding cell at the west Nashville precinct. Auguste was likely sleeping his way to a wicked hangover in the drunk tank. Arrested. Never in his life had he been arrested. He'd never even gotten a speeding ticket. Now he was trying his best to sleep, all he wanted was sleep. Even fifteen minutes would be a blessing. It was impossible, though, on the hard, completely filthy bench. Sleeping sitting up was a lot harder than he'd ever imagined and he now had no idea how people did it on planes and in theatres. He was also cursing Damen and that little blonde jackass for never bothering to answer their damn phones.  

* * *

 

The night had started so well. It was just the two of them and the only proper date they'd had so far. They had plans to get dinner, see a movie, and end the night at a club for drinks. Auguste had booked them a room in a nearby hotel so they wouldn't have to worry about driving back.

"So explain this to me," Auguste had said on the way out of Peachers Grove. "This town only has three restaurants,  but it has two liquor stores."

"We're about to have a fourth resataurant," Nik was smiling. It probably was a very confusing place for someone like Auguste. Very few restaurants, one bar on the outskirts - in the opposite direction of Nashville, a tearoom, and a dozen or so local shops like a hardware store, a grocery store, and two gas stations; one on each end of town. The one the south end was owned by a man called Leonard Speeves, a mechanic, who worked on nearly every car in the town. Nik spent a lot of time helping him as a teenager. Mostly because he worked out of his home and had a very pretty daughter who was a year younger than Nik. Oh, he enjoyed fixing cars, but spending all day with Agnes Speeves, who spent the majority of her summers in a bikini, was his favorite part of the job. And Peachers Grove had its own haunted woods and a creepy old farmhouse where children had been murdered. Or eaten. Or both. Not everyone could agree. Carson MuCullers could have written a true masterpiece about it.

"Right, Auguste said. "The sushi place." He was laughing. It was so lovely to hear. He was lovely no matter what he was doing.

"You sound surprised."

"I am. I kinda figured this was more of a meat and three town. Do you think it will be good? The sushi."

"Not a fan. I wouldn't know good from bad. Guess you should stick around and find out." Nik was taking a risk. They'd experienced a lot together, but they'd only known each other a for a very short time. It was a clumsy and cliched thing to say. He'd find a better way to express himself. Maybe with the help of some tequila. If he was gonna make some big confession, he probably needed a little agave induced courage.

"Guess I should," Auguste said softly.

* * *

 

Everything went perfectly until they left the club. Well, until they were asked to leave the club. Auguste had been drinking the entire night. He had Jack and Coke with dinner, they stopped and bought a bottle before the movie, and he had several drinks at the club. It had to be Jack Daniels, he said. He couldn't properly party in Tennessee without Jack Daniels. Nik was impressed with his tolerance, he should have been unconscious hours ago. Nik was a little buzzed, but Auguste was almost fall down drunk which was probably the reason for the little altercation with a performer that got them kicked out in the first place. Still, Nik was enjoying himself. He was looking forward to getting Auguste into the hotel room and out of his clothes so leaving earlier than they'd planned wasn't bad thing. On the way back to the car, however, everything went to hell. They were so close. Nik had every intention of calling an Uber to get them to the hotel, but he wanted to get Auguste back to the car. He wanted to contain him. He did not want to wait on the sidewalk right in front of the club. It just felt too volatile. That was the first mistake. 

The cold night air sobered Auguste up just enough that when a large, glowering man clipped him with his shoulder and mumbled something Auguste stopped immediately and turned around. "Did you just actually call us queers?" Nik heard Auguste ask. "Are you a queer, Nik?" Auguste was smiling and Nik had no idea what the correct answer to that was. Auguste was facing the guy, but glancing over his shoulder back at Nik. "Queer. That's the word you're going with? That's the best your tiny brain can do?" Auguste was laughing, but it wasn't his normal laughter. He almost sounded like Baby Firefly and Nik knew nothing good was about to happen. 

Nik was farther down the sidewalk. He'd kept going when the guy bumped into Auguste and, apparently, called him a queer. "You know what, man? I AM a queer," Auguste said. That crazy laughter still echoing around them. It was the last thing Nik heard before he saw Auguste slam his head into the guy's face. He was a big guy even by Nik's standards, but it didn't seem to matter to Auguste. Nik moved as fast as he could to back Auguste up and to make sure he didn't get himself killed, but Auguste didn't need any help. He had the situation completely under control. By the time Nik got his head together and got to them, Auguste had the guy flat on the sidewalk, siting on him, his knees on either side of the man, his fingers digging into the man's chin to force him to look up and at him. "Now imagine what it's gonna feel like when your friends find out you got your ass kicked by a queer." Nik realized that one of Auguste's knees wasn't even touching the ground. 

More time than Nik thought must have passed because he heard the sirens in a flash. Fuck whoever called the police. Since he was just a bystander he was ready to tell the police what happened - embellished a bit to give Auguste justification, but he never got the chance. As soon as the cops were out of their cars they had guns drawn and Auguste had his hands over his head, backing away from the dazed and bleeding man who was still halfway sprawled on the sidewalk, no doubt questioning his poor life choices. Auguste was still smiling. Nik almost laughed himself when he realized that Auguste was calm and obviously knew exactly what to do. Nik watched as one cop ran to the guy and another had Auguste down on his knees, securing his wrists in zip-ties. The guy must have said something because the cop helping the man up looked over. "Get that one too," he said, nodding toward Nik. And then Nik was being arrested. Outstanding.

The most shocking part was how well Auguste took this. Nik realized that this wasn't Auguste's first time. As he was being walked past Nik, Auguste managed to lean in and say "Don't say one word. Nothing. Not one fucking word." And he was able to grab Nik's lower lip between his teeth for a second. Nik heard the cop saying something about "backing away" or "knock it off" and felt Auguste being forcefully pulled away. Then he saw Auguste giving him a wink as he was being shoved into the police car. 

"You need to watch yourself," the cop said as he was driving Nik to the station. "Ain't no tail worth going to prison over." 

Nik took Auguste's advice and said nothing. Not even when he was thrown, almost literally, into a cell. He didn't even get his phone call for a few hours. Not until after he and Auguste had been dragged into a courtroom and in front of a judge. Nik had absolutely no idea what to do. Auguste calmly demanded a lawyer, refused a public defender and then provided the number to an attorney in California who eventually sent a local colleague to the court. Nik's bail was little more than pennies. Auguste's was substantially higher.

Nik finally gave up on the sleep idea and stood, stretching his legs. There was a small window above the desk outside the bars and Nik had just noticed the sun was up when a portly, middle aged cop with a perfectly round and beet red face waddled in and sat down. Nik asked him what time it was. 

"Almost 8:00," he said, pushing his glasses down to see the watch and then back up to look at Nik. "Are you Nik- Nikee- Nikan-"

"Just Nik. And yes, yes. That is me."

"Then you're who I'm back here for. Someone's here for you and your friend." He was talking so slowly and he was still sitting down. Why was he sitting down? They sure as shit tossed him into a car and then a cell quick enough. Now they all seemed to be moving in slow motion when he was being released. 

"What happens now?" Nik thought about what Auguste said again, but he'd been alone for hours and he'd never actually been arrested before. He was about to crawl out of his skin. "Do I come back? Do I go see another judge? Grand jury?"

The man was laughing. "A grand jury? Because you had a little too much to drink?" He was finally unlocking the cage and holding the door open for Nik. "We aren't gonna send you boys to Riverbend just yet," he said, patting Nik on the shoulder. Nik decided he liked this little man as he escorted out Nik out. He stopped at a desk behind a window to give Nik a bag with his wallet, phone, and everything else they'd decided to take away from him, then he pointed toward the door and told to wait for Auguste there. He didn't say Auguste's name. Just called him "your buddy" which made Nik chuckle.

When he walked through the doors he just assumed he'd see Damen. He hoped he didn't see Laurent without Damen. He absolutely did not expect to see his parents. "Oh, fuck me, fuck me," he said to himself when they turned to look at him. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, finally having gathered the courage to approach them. He was smiling, trying to lighten the mood and they were not having it. Oh, Damen was gonna pay for this. Unless Laurent was behind it. Which he probably was.

He was about to offer some sort of explanation when the door on the opposite side of the lobby swung open and an extremely large cop with a goatee, a shaved head, and a neck like a tree trunk walked in holding Auguste by the upper arm. "Take this little little temper tantrum back to California. You're lucky the guy you went after isn't pressing charges. You broke his nose in three places." All of this just a few feet away from Nik's parents. Nik didn't even know if that was possible, but it sounded terrible.

"Is everybody in this town a damn giant?" Auguste jerked his arm out of the guy's grip and looked up at the guy, scowling. Then he scanned the room, obviously confused. He was clearly expecting Damen and Laurent too. Instead he was faced with Nik's incredibly unhappy parents who were complete strangers to him. Nik looked him over. He was still beautiful, but hungover with tangled hair, smudged eyeliner and an old band t-shirt with the words "Faster Pussycat" printed on the front would not have been Nik's first choice for this introduction. 

"Where is my car?" Auguste asked the receptionist. 

"Probably where you left it," she said. Not even bothering to look up. "We don't tow cars unless we arrest you in one."

Nik's mother was literally clutching the necklace she was wearing, her mouth open as her eyes went up and down Auguste over and over. Nik's father was looking at Nik and the man was not blinking.

The last 24 hours couldn't possibly be reality. He woke up to an empty bed yesterday to find Auguste sitting next to the window looking out. Auguste had turned on one of his playlists. Nik rolled over to watch him and propped himself up on one elbow. Auguste was wearing one of Nik's button up shirts. It was long enough to cover the top of Auguste's thighs, and when he looked over and saw Nik was awake he smiled, beamed at Nik. There was something reminiscent of a fiery innocence in him that Nik couldn't quite grasp. He got back into bed with Nik, sitting in front of him on his knees. Nik reached out and slid his hand up Auguste's leg, pushing the shirt up. His thumb slipped back and forth softly. He loved the feel of Auguste's skin under his fingers. 20 minutes later Nik was inside him, moving slowly with Auguste's legs loosely locked around him. Nik's fingers ghosted across the back of Auguste's thigh, gently lifting it higher so he could get deeper inside him. He was still wearing Nik's shirt, but it was unbuttoned, skin touching skin. The sun bathed the room in soft light, casting an otherworldly glow all around them. Greg Allman was singing in the background, _"So you like my spurs that jingle and I'll never leave you cold."_  Auguste was biting his bottom lip, trying to keep his eyes from closing. Nik could see he was getting close. He could feel Auguste's breath catching in his throat. He arched his back under Nik and Nik kissed him, peppering his lips, his cheeks, his neck. Nik would never get enough of him. He held his own orgasm back as Auguste came underneath him, his body tensing around Nik and then releasing as he lifted his hips before pressing them down into the bed. He looked up at Nik and smiled, biting his lip again, his eyes glossy and his cheeks flushed, as he grabbed Nik's ass, forcing Nik in even deeper and Nik closed his eyes and saw explosions before collapsing on top of Auguste.

"Nik," his mother's voice slammed him back into the moment. "Can you please introduce us," she said softly, unbelievably polite. 

He saw Auguste's eyes look at her and go wide.

"Mom," Nik said, clearing his throat. "This is Auguste. Auguste, this is my mom and my dad." The "someone please kill me" was unspoken but obviously implied.

Auguste smiled nervously and looked to Nik for some instruction. "It's really nice to meet you," he said sweetly, but there was no cleaning this situation up. 

"What are you guys doing here?" Nik asked. This ought to be fun. "I called Damen."

"And Damen stopped by this morning with the money. He was with your brother," his father said, turning to Auguste.

Auguste laughed, looked down and then back up, trying to compose himself. "Did my little brother say why he couldn't come do this? Did he say anything at all?" He was still smiling. He was trying his best. He might be able to get through to Nik's mother. Nik's father was another story. 

His father shook his head. "Damen said they were just getting getting back in town and were exhausted and didn't think they could make the drive safely. And they didn't want you to be stuck here until this afternoon." The man was still unsure about Auguste. He couldn't keep his eyes off of him. 

"Well, let's go. We thought we'd take you boys to Cracker Barrel. You're probably starving," his mother said. 

 

Watching Auguste wander around the gift shop at Cracker Barrel was probably one of the greatest things Nik had ever seen. 

"They have clothes, candy, toys, bric a brac everywhere," August was in awe. "What even is this place?"

Watching the typical 9am Saturday morning Cracker Barrel crowd watch Auguste was even better. 

* * *

 

"I think they liked me," Auguste said, smiling at Nik and waggling his eyebrows. They were back in Auguste's Rover on the way back to Peachers Grove. 

"I think I'm out of the will," Nik said. "So you've been arrested before, having you?" It didn't matter. He was just curious.

"Oh-hoho, yes. Mostly for the same thing. Drunk and disorderly, speeding... with a suspended license, once for pot in Miami."

"And now assault."

"And now I guess assault," Auguste said, glancing over at Nik. It always amazed Nik how fast Auguste could go from cocky to almost painfully shy. "Is that gonna be a problem?" He was nervous. Nik could hear the slight tremble in his voice.

"Of course not," Nik said, reaching over and squeezing Auguste's thigh, his fingers slipping through one of the rips so he could touch skin and not denim. "Why would it?"

"It's a deal breaker for a lot of people." Auguste's tone was even softer. Nik wasn't sure what douchebag had let him go or hurt him, but he was grateful to the guy. Auguste was his now. That guy's loss was the best thing that had ever happened to Nik. 

The rest of the drive was comfortable. The two trading stories from their teenage years, comparing music, comparing books and foods and movies. Nik wanted to know everything about Auguste. They'd spent so much time together, but so little was really talking about themselves. It really just cemented everything for Nik. This was the one for him. He'd dated plenty of women and guy or two here and there. He never thought The One would be a guy, but there he was. He asked about the shirt. He hadn't even noticed it the night before. Auguste laughed told him to pull up a song called Bathroom Wall. 

"Wow," Nik said. "This is... this is awful."

"Find the the video," Auguste said, still laughing. 

"Ok," Nik said. "This is actually worse." Nik was laughing too. "How do you and Laurent know all this old music?" It was something he been wondering. There had to be a reason. He didn't remember seeing August in one band t-shirt that wasn't at least 30 years old. 

"My mom," Auguste said. 

"Your mom listens to Faster Pussycat?" Now he was intrigued.

"Yeah, are you surprised?"

"Well, a little," Nik said. He knew Auguste's father was a lawyer. And a very successful one. He couldn't quite reconcile a wealthy attorney raising his kids with Motorhead and Guns N' Roses . 

"My dad's an entertainment lawyer. He has been for almost 35 years."

That made a little more sense. "Where's your dad from?" Nik asked. 

"My dad grew up in Beverly Hills." Auguste said. 

"What about your mom?" 

"My mom was born in Florida... basically as far away from Beverly Hills as possible."

"How'd she get to California?"  
  
"Her mom was diagnosed with cancer when she was 14. She died a couple of years later and my mom ran away because she didn't want to go into the foster system and she didn't have any other relatives. So she hitched her way to LA in the early 80s. She needed money so lied about her age and started stripping, well," Auguste paused and laughed. "It was just a topless club. She was 17. Hair metal was everything back then and she met a lot of the bands because all of them loved strip bars. She ended up dating some of them, hanging out on Sunset. She has all these friends who were in bands or who knew the bands," Auguste glanced over at him as if expecting Nik to say something. "She was hot," he said. "She was in a couple of videos."

"Oh," Nik said. "Oh, she was..."

Auguste laughed. "She was a groupie," he said. "You can say it. She's never hidden it. She met my dad at a party, but he knew all these guys too so he'd seen her before. He finally asked her out."

"You said your dad went to Harvard, right? And he grew up in Beverly Hills. Were your grandparents good with it?"

"Oh, they hated her," Auguste said. "But what could they do? He loved her and he was gonna marry her no matter what. She really bonded with my grandmother when she got pregnant with me and it's been great between them ever since. My mom is the same person she's always been. So that's how we know so much. A lot of my clothes are from her friends. Things that were actually on the Sunset Strip back in the 80s."

"Wow," was all Nik could say. He had moments when he'd thought Auguste was just the stereotypical bored rich hooligan. It never occurred to Nik that it might be coded into his DNA. And that just made Nik's heart puff up a little more. 

"What about your parents?" Auguste asked. "How did they meet?" 

"They went to high school together and got married two years after they graduated. I feel so boring." Nik said with a laugh. 

"I think that's sweet," Auguste said. 

The conversation turned to childhood memories and Auguste was finishing a story about hiding under a sink in a basically unused bathroom with Laurent and how furious their mother when she found them when they pulled into the driveway.

"Now we go kill them," Nik said. He grabbed the doorknob and pushed, but it was locked. 

The door was never locked if someone was home. Damen's truck was in the driveway so Nik assumed he was there which made the door being locked even weirder. As he stepped inside he put his hand out to keep Auguste behind him. "Damen," he said. He was loud, but he wasn't yelling. Damen came around the corner and Nik stood back to let Auguste in. "Man, you had to send my damn parents? Of all the people in this town." Auguste was snickering behind him. 

Damen took a deep breath and his eyes flicked to the left. An obvious tell. He was about to lie. Damen never lied to him. He lied to his parents sometimes and his brother, but it was rare. Maybe that was why he was so terrible at it. "Something came up. We were stuck in the other house. We went to drop some supplies off and we looked around to see how things were going and I somehow dropped my keys. We looked everywhere, but we didn't have a lot of light. We didn't find them until this morning and we were exhausted. No way we could have made the drive. I did ask Kastor, but when has ever done anything to help me out. My parents went to the mountains this weekend. We didn't want you two to spend all day there. Sorry."

"My head is killing me," Auguste said, opening a bottle of water.

"Probably because you used it to break a guy's nose." Laurent walked into the room smiling at his brother. The two shared a look, soft smiles. Even Nik had to laugh at that comment. 

"I'm going to take a shower," Auguste said. He paused to cup the back of Laurent's head and give him a quick kiss on the cheek on his way out. There was an easy intimacy between them. They bickered back and forth and traded sarcastic barbs, but the love was obvious. Nik knew, without a doubt, that they'd kill for one another and that made him a little more tolerant of Laurent. He still thought Damen wanting him was a terrible idea, though. 

"Have fun?" Laurent asked Nik and he was actually smiling. Somehow it seemed a little less caustic than usual. "Kinda like dating Motley Crue if they were all one guy, innit?"

"Have you ever been arrested?" It was a reasonable question. Laurent did not seem like someone who had spent any time inside a jail cell, but he knew they were close and surely Laurent had been there once.

"Well, yeah. The times I've been with him. No way they're just gonna take him away from me."

Something opened up inside Nik. He agreed. Having Auguste pulled out of his arms was terrible. He was seeing something new in Laurent. Of course Laurent would be arrested if he was with Auguste. The kid worshiped him.

"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go back to sleep," Laurent said. He gave Damen a soft pat on his chest and walked back out. That caught Nik's attention. 

"What the hell was that? Why are you lying to me? What happened last night? Please tell me you did not hook up with him." He was whispering, but it was harsh.

Damen took a deep breath. "I can't tell you everything, Nik, ok? So please don't ask me," he stopped, waiting for Nik to agree. "I saw them, Nik. We saw them."

"Saw what?" 

"The fires. We saw the fires. And it wasn't just one or two. Dozens, all through the woods. I dropped my keys behind the house and I wasn't going to crawl around looking for them in the dark. And even if I hadn't, I'm not sure we could have driven away. The only way in and out goes right through the woods."

Damen was visibly shaken, but Nik wasn't buying that. "Really? That's what you're gonna go with? Ghost children set the forest ablaze? Damen, if you nailed him just tell me. I think it's a terrible idea, but I just spent a night in jail so I'm not really in any position to judge you." He knew they still had a lot of talking to do, but now wasn't the best time for something that intense. 

"What the happened last night?" Damen asked. "Laurent called his father and figured it all out and then we came back here and crashed. I'm so sorry I sent your parents."

"It's ok," Nik said, grateful for the subject change. "They were gonna meet him sooner or later and he ain't getting any less wild," Nik smiled, shaking his head. "Dude, though. You should have seen it. This was a big guy. He walked by and called us queers and Auguste just snapped. He could easily kick my ass, Damen," Nik said. He and Damen were pretty much the same size, but Damen had played football so he had an edge that Nik did not. "I doubt he could take you down, but he definitely could cause me pain. I've never seen anything like it." Nik started the Keurig and turned back around. "Wait. You spent the entire night in that house with a guy who looks like that and nothing happened. Is the mattress still there?

"Yep," Damen nodded.

"And you just slept?"

"We didn't really sleep."

"Then what did you do all night? You didn't sleep, you didn't fuck. You didn't mess around at all?" Nik just found that impossible to believe. "So what did you do?" 

"We talked," Damen said, leaning back against the sink. 

Nik blinked a few times, shaking his head. "Talked? All night? What could you have possibly talked about all night? All night with him? Someone easier to get along with I can see, but dude."

"He's not all that hard to get along with once you get to know him. You're just gonna have to trust me on that too," Damen said, pushing away from the counter and putting his cup in the dishwasher. "Or you can tell me all about how wrong you think I am later. Right now, I need sleep. I'm about to fall over." He patted Nik on the shoulder as he left the kitchen. 

* * *

 

Nik won about a hundred arguments with Damen and his parents as he showered. He successfully convinced Damen to rethink where his situation with Laurent was going. He made his parents adore Auguste. It was wonderful... until his own hypocrisy smacked him in the face. How could he possibly tell Damen to stay away from Laurent if he wasn't willing to stay away from Auguste? Being honestly objective, Auguste was probably a bad idea now matter how Nik looked at the situation. He reckless, almost feral. He slept around, he was spoiled and had a serious bratty streak sometimes. He drank too much, smoked way too much weed, Nik had seen several little baggies, some full, some half full, and some emprty, laying around the room that Auguste was sharing with Laurent. Nik didn't know what was in them, but his gut told him it was nothing legal and even Nik had to admit that Laurent being a casual user was highly unlikely. Auguste broke the law with a haughty indifference, everything from speeding to literally fighting in the streets and he had no respect for police officers, he had no respect for any sort of authority. The more Nik thought, the more his mind twisted and tangled. He compared the brothers and realized that Auguste had as many daddy issues as Laurent did. They just manifested differently. Auguste talked so sweetly about his mother, but he hadn't said very much about his father at all. This was the argument he could not win. The one with himself. He stepped out and dried off trying to push it all out of this mind. Thankfully, all rational thought left him when he walked into his room.

He'd expected Auguste to be with Laurent, but he wasn't. Auguste was in Nik's bed, on his stomach, his hair still damp, one arm hanging off the bed with the sheet covering him from his hips down. Nik walked across the room and tugged the sheet down. Auguste was completely naked and Nik just stood there and stared, his eyes moving over every inch of Auguste's skin. There was music playing. Auguste almost always slept with music on, but this wasn't anything Auguste would really listen to. _"... no chance that I'm leaving here without you on me."_ Nik laughed softly and ran his hand down Auguste's back and Auguste arched into the touch, his eyes opening slowly and he smiled up at Nik.

"This doesn't sound like you," Nik said. 

"It' one of Laurent's playlists," Auguste said softly. He moved over to make room for Nik and before as Nik's head hit the pillow, he pulled Auguste back to him and kissed him, wrapping him tightly in his arms.

Good idea, bad idea, his parents, the whole world, any and every higher power in existence be damned. No one was ever taking this boy away from him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to research what happens you're arrested because I seriously have no idea so if it's completely wrong please forgive me.


	9. Falling Like Angels To The Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen thinks too much. Laurent visits the house alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor physical altercation in Lauren't section. Nothing graphic.
> 
> (title is from Kings And Queens And Vagabonds by Ellem)

DAMEN:

Damen was in a daze. He had been since he'd seen those fires. Nik thought he was crazy and he wasn't sure what Auguste's reaction was. He wasn't even sure if Laurent had decided to tell him though he must have. He and Laurent hadn't talked about it other than Damen mentioning Nik was never going to believe it. And if Nik knew, Auguste would know. What they had talked about was the other thing. Damen tried not to pry, tried to keep the questions open-ended, giving Laurent the space he needed to talk or avoid or anything he needed to process the situation. Damen asked if he'd told anyone else, if anyone else knew, but obviously not. If Auguste didn't know then no one else did. 

"I think about it," Laurent said. "I think about it all the time. If I'm having a good day, I think about it. When I'm not thinking about anything, I think about it. When I'm almost asleep, I think about it. I can't ever get away from it. It's always there, always lurking, just waiting. It doesn't matter if I'm happy or sad. It's there. I'm still in that house with him. It's always that summer. I'm still 13. He's dead, but he won't leave me alone. I don't think he ever will."

He'd stopped then, looking past Damen. Damen wasn't sure at what. Maybe he was looking out the window at the fires. They'd burned all night. Damen dozed off a couple of times. He woke up with his head in Laurent's lap. He had no idea how they got in that position, but Laurent was stroking his hair and Damen pretended to be asleep for a few moments to just enjoy it. Laurent didn't cry - not after the first time, but something softened in him. They'd actually talked instead of spending hours with Laurent sniping at him. They talked about their brothers, their families, their friends. Damen was a little envious of the relationship Laurent and Auguste shared. He wished he could have that with Kastor. They could barely stand each other sometimes while Laurent and Auguste were more than brothers. They were friends. Best friends. Most of Laurent's stories revolved around Auguste because without Auguste, nothing mattered to Laurent. Damen hadn't spent a lot of time talking with Auguste, but he was certain that Auguste felt the same. The way they looked at each other, the quiet laughter, the inside jokes. Damen wondered where Auguste was that summer. He learned the answer without ever having to ask. That was the summer Auguste turned 16 and he went to Europe with his friends. Laurent, being 13, wasn't really old enough. Their parents had given him the option of spending the summer traveling with them or going to stay with his uncle who was living on a ranch in Montana. Laurent loved horses so of course he chose that. Damen wanted to ask why the uncle was there, but then it occurred to him. The man knew Laurent would be separated from Auguste and he knew that Laurent loved horses. Damen hoped the son of a bitch was burning in hell.

The fires began to shrink and were gone just before the sun came up. Neither of them wasted any time getting in the truck and they spent a good chunk of the drive back in complete silence. And then Laurent checked his messages and started laughing. After the night they'd had, it was a welcome sound.

"Arrested?" Damen asked. He was not expecting that. 

"Relax. It'd be more shocking if they hadn't been. Auguste is..." Laurent's voice trailed off as he tried to come up with the right word. "Uninhibited." 

Damen laughed. That was certainly one way to put it. 

"Do you think your brother will go get them?" Laurent asked.

"He might," Damen said, knowing there was no possible way that was going to happen. With Damen's parents out of town, Nik's parents were probably the best option. Even though Nik had never been arrested. Watching Nik's father listen to Laurent while he went over the whole process for him was something he was not likely to forget. Not for a long time anyway. 

The alarm on Damen's phone went off and for a second he really wasn't sure where he was. Oh, yeah. "Pencils down," he said. He heard papers shuffling and frustrated whispers. It was going to be a long day.

 

LAURENT:

Ditching Auguste was the hardest part of his plan. He'd managed to convince Nik that Auguste really needed a facial, a massage, and whatever else that would keep both of them away from Peachers Grove for most of the day. Laurent found a spa in Nashville that could fit both of them in for a couples package. Nik was resistant at first, but Laurent wore him down. They'd left not long after Damen that morning and they probably wouldn't be back until early evening. Damen had mentioned meeting with the football team after school. So no one was around to try and talk him out of this. He didn't want to explain to Auguste and Damen because he didn't want to lie to them, but he needed to look around some more, to see if anything else was there. He just wanted to be sure. Damen finding and seeing the photos was bad enough. The last thing he needed was one of the men who were working there all day finding something similar and giving it to Auguste. 

The men were more than happy to clear out for him. He assured them they'd be paid for the time and given a bonus on one condition - that they not mention this to Auguste. So that was taken care of. They had packed up and been out within half an hour, leaving Laurent alone. He stood in the middle of the front room, the room he had spent the night in with Damen. If he was more like Auguste, the night would have been a lot more fun. They even had a mattress. Of course, if he was more like Auguste, they wouldn't have been there in the first place because he wouldn't have had any idea how terrible his uncle was so he wouldn't have been looking for some kid's phone. He could have stayed at Damen's place and used one of the many mattresses that were there. He tried to clear his mind by tracing the wall that led into the kitchen with his fingertips. The tile that was still out of place. There was nothing else in there. At least nothing that Damen could see, but Damen didn't know Laurent's uncle. He looked for something he could use to dig.

He walked by the far wall of the living room, the wall that looked out the front windows, directly into the woods. They didn't look terrible and frightening at all. Not in the mid morning. The day was overcast, but the air wasn't as biting as it had been. The weather was actually pretty nuts. There was no consistency. A few nights prior, Laurent had fallen asleep under a pile of blankets and woken up several hours later convinced he was being boiled alive. He'd found that even if he needed a coat in the morning, he'd need nothing more than a t-shirt by early afternoon. This day felt different. It felt as if the air was going to hold, to keep very crisp, pleasant. It was perfect picnic weather. 

This house was a house of horrors. Not just for Laurent, but for Seth, for the children who might have died here decades ago. It didn't feel especially dark. He felt like it should. Even if the legends were just fiction, what happened to Seth wasn't fiction. Damen finding those photos wasn't fiction. Someone cracking open the secrets Laurent had resolved to take to his grave wasn't fiction. It happened almost exactly where he was standing. The look on Damen's face, his inability to make eye contact with Laurent, his awkward fidgeting because he had no idea what move, if any, he should make or what he should say. Laurent felt his own blood pounding in his ears even at the memory. Damen had been so kind. He'd tried so valiantly to stay awake, he'd respected Laurent's wishes and his space, he hadn't asked prying questions. Laurent didn't think he'd ever be able to tell him how much that meant to him. 

 

After pulling up half the kitchen tiles and checking every wall for loose panels, Laurent sat down on the mattress. Maybe it was just the one bag. It certainly had enough in it to raise a serious alarm had it been found by the police. Or the crews working here all day. Thankfully, they hadn't started on the kitchen yet. Laurent felt a chill slither down his spine at simply the idea of someone handing them to Auguste. There was still the matter of the phone, but neither Damen or Laurent knew what to do with it. Nik couldn't be asked because what Nik knew, Auguste knew and that would go nowhere good. "Lazar," he suddenly said to himself, the man's name and crooked smile flashing in his mind. If anyone could open that phone it'd be Lazar. He had no idea how he was going to explain his presence to Auguste, though. Maybe Damen knew a guy who was Lazar's type. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and leaned against the part of the kitchen counter that looked sturdy enough to support him. A set-up would be enough for Auguste. He tapped in a quick message to Damen and took a look around the room. This place would be a beautiful when the work was done. Maybe they could open an Airbnb. Marketed right Laurent was sure plenty of amateur ghost chasers would line up to spend the night in a house in the middle of a haunted forest. 

He glanced at his phone before he slipped it back into the pocket of his jacket and noted the time. He'd been there for hours and he didn't even realize it. He decided to see how the progress was coming. And he liked the silence. Everything was still then, content. He took the stairs slowly, he knew they'd been working on them and that some of the men were upstairs all day, but he wanted to be sure. Falling through the floor wasn't how he wanted his afternoon to go. 

Upstairs the rooms were open, drop cloths and tools were scattered about. He moved around some bigger things like saws and work benches, there was a light layer of sawdust on the floors. In the second room, in the corner, half covered with a sheet, was a box of toys. Laurent crouched down to look through it then sat down when he realized how old some of them were. The house was pretty barren and had been vacant as long as anyone could remember so there was no explanation for the toys. Turn of the century would seem about right if he had to date them and that meant there might actually be something to the lore about the property. The boys his uncles preferred were old enough to have aged away from things like teddy bears and spinning tops. Laurent reached in and pulled out a doll that was probably beautiful once, but time and the elements had stripped away most of hair, her face was cracked from the side of her forehead down past the opposite side of her nose. Her clothes were crumbling and dusty. He set her aside, planning to take her with him. Damen had mentioned that the Airbnb they'd booked was run by a elderly woman who collected dolls. Even though they'd paid, he still felt bad about ditching her. From everything he'd heard, she sounded lonely. 

As he stood and walked out of the room, he heard the door slam. He wanted to believe it was just the wind. He hadn't even thought to bring a gun. The legend of a haunted house aside, this place was like Mayberry. As far as he'd heard, his uncle was the real danger around and he was gone. But while Laurent didn't feel immediately afraid, he knew better than to make a mad dash down the stairs. If someone was down there and they meant him harm, he'd never make it from the back of the house to the front door, so he took the stairs slowly, pausing to breath deeply as he came around the corner. There was no reason for anyone to be sneaking around the house. Steeling himself, he entered the room and saw a man. 

"Can I help you?" he asked, hoping the guy was a worker who'd come back to collect something. The man was large. He had the build of someone who did manual labor for a living. He was dressed the part in work boots, jeans and a sweatshirt. His nose was crooked and he had two black eyes and other bruising around his nose. An injury that didn't seem too out of place for a construction worker. He didn't look familiar, but Laurent didn't know all the guys. This was Auguste's project. Laurent didn't want anything to do with this house.

"You're Laurent." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes. I sent the guys home today. You'll still get paid. I just needed to look around," he said. He was still hoping for the best.

"Your brother broke my nose," he said.

Oh. The man must have followed Auguste and NIk. He was barely blinking as he stared Laurent down. Laurent had his keys in his pocket, but the man was standing between him and the door and he was too big to slip by. 

"If you want money..." Laurent started. What other reason could the guy have? Of course he was going after the younger brother. The older one had already kicked his ass. 

"I don't want your money," the man said. He scoffed and looked Laurent up and down. "I want what your uncle promised me."

Laurent didn't mean to, didn't mean to appear threatened at all, but he took a step back. He didn't need to ask the man what he meant. That was perfectly clear. 

"You can't run," the man said, taking a step closer. "He promised me your brother, but you'll do." He was smiling, sneering. 

Laurent laughed at that. "You wanna go another round with my brother?" There was no sense in backing down. Laurent knew where he was, he knew what he was facing, but he also knew he'd faced worse. This guy, whoever he was, wasn't likely to do anything Laurent hadn't lived through before.

"You're not your brother," the man said. "You look like him, but you're not him."

Laurent backed up a bit more. The more he moved, the closer the man came and the farther away from the door he was. If he came at Laurent, all Laurent had to do was duck his blow and get past him. Once he was, the door was open, his keys were in his pocket and the car wasn't locked. The guy was big, he was fairly fit, but with his size there was no way he could catch Laurent. When his back hit the wall, Laurent gasped. He'd miscalculated, but his plan was still a good one.

"Did you really think Auguste was just gonna let you fuck him?" Laurent asked, smiling.

"Wasn't gonna ask him," the man said. "Don't plan to ask you."

"So I'm just your second choice," Laurent said, he was grinning. He had to get the guy to make his move. "Because you couldn't get it up for your first choice." Promising his henchman a shot at Laurent made sense, but Auguste? No way their uncle had any intention of letting this ogre anywhere near Auguste. He could trust Laurent to keep his mouth shut. Laurent had kept it shut for nearly a decade. He'd get no sort of assurance from Auguste. Auguste would have fought him and if he couldn't fight him off, he would go to the police. There'd be evidence, there'd be proof, and their father would learn everything. That was not a chance their uncle would take. Laurent was an expert where his uncle was concerned. "Well?" he said, cocking his head to the side as he watched the man. 

"Your uncle said you had a mouth on you."

"Did he? He would know." Laurent said plainly with a shrug. "What'd he say about Auguste? He never laid a hand on Auguste, you know. If he said he did, he was lying. I'm sure he wanted to, but he didn't. My uncle was a despicable man, but he wasn't a stupid man." Laurent knew keeping his cool was vital.

"He said Auguste was whore. Said he'd wrap his legs around any man who would hold still long enough." Now the man was confused. Clearly, he'd expected something very different than Laurent engaging him in conversation. 

Laurent laughed, shaking his head. "That's not true," he said, smiling at the man. "He wouldn't wrap his legs around you." 

The man surged forward, pure rage seething out of him. Laurent ducked as his arm lashed out and shoved him sideways. He lost his balance, but he was able to right himself quickly and he didn't look back. He pulled the door open just as he felt the man's beefy hand close around his ankle, jerking him back. His knees hit the floor with a heavy thud. Laurent kicked out, tried to connect with any part of the man he could, but he was being dragged back into the house as if he weighed no more than a feather. The guy had a solid grip on his leg. Laurent screamed. He didn't meant to, but he did. The man laughed because who was going to hear him? He was miles away from town, he sent the crew home, Auguste was two towns away and wouldn't be back for hours, and Damen was in school. Laurent almost laughed at himself. This was a truly stupid idea. 

The ease with which the man crawled on top of him was terrifying. Now that he had Laurent, he had more than enough strength to manhandle him into any position he wanted, but he got too cocky. He got Laurent's legs apart and Laurent took a deep breath and locked his thighs against the mans bulk, using all the strength he could find, managed to flip them. His knees didn't touch the ground on either side of the man. The man was dazed and only holding one of his wrists so Laurent used his free hand to push the man's already swollen nose up and inward. A sickening crunch was immediately followed by a scream that sounded like a wild animal. Auguste managed to save him without ever being aware. Without his injury, the man would probably have been able to easily overpower Laurent. 

He saw the tires before he even reached the car. All four were slashed. A moment of true panic set in as he tried to quickly weigh his options. He could call the police, but reception wasn't the best in this clearing and it would take at least ten minutes for anyone to get to him anyway. He looked back at the house. The man was still yelling, threatening Laurent with what he was going to do once he got his hands on him. The car wasn't going to move and getting a signal inside might be impossible and then he would be trapped, possibly giving the man unlimited time to get in. His other option was the woods. If he could get to the main road, he'd have service and be able to call for help, but running up the road that led in wasn't really feasible. He didn't see another car, but there had to be one close by. How else did the guy get here? It had to be the woods. He ran to the tree line, stopping just at the edge as if he was about to tumble over a cliff. He was trying to ignore every thought and feeling that was screaming at him. He paused, looking back at the house just in time to see the man coming out the door then he held his breath, closed his eyes and stepped forward. 


	10. Ain't No Use In Hidin' From Something You Can Never Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent deals with weirdness in the woods. Damen is the proverbial white knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( title is from Voodoo Shoppe by Cowboy Mouth. God, I fucking love this song)

LAURENT:

Laurent ran. He didn't know if the man was behind him, he didn't know where he was going. The only thing he heard was the wind as branches whipped by his ears and scratched his face, as his feet crushed anything in his path. He didn't look back and he didn't try to come up with a plan. Once he was inside the woods, once he breached the tree line, he didn't think about the fires and he didn't think about getting lost. He just pushed ahead, got as far away from that house as possible. He was glad he left Ragnar at Damen's. She was probably asleep in some of Auguste's clothes. Laurent couldn't stand dirty laundry laying around, but Auguste was fine with it. Ragnar was a comforting thought. She was safe, she was waiting for him so he had to get out of the woods to get back to her. He had to get back to Auguste. Back to Damen. When he stopped it was only because his legs were ready to buckle and he could barely breathe. He had no idea how long he'd been running, but his throat felt cracked. The trees were so dense he could barely see in some places. He was deep in the woods. Definitely deeper than Auguste had been. He spun around, trying to pinpoint his location so he could orient himself and get out. The sun wasn't setting yet, but the days were getting shorter. He only had a few hours of daylight left and the thought of spending the night in this place sent a chill from the back of his neck all the way down his spine. He pushed deeper and deeper, hoping he would hit the highway soon. From there he could call for help and still hide from view in case the man drove by. He had so much he had to tell Auguste. That was one thing that kept his head together. He had to warn Auguste. Auguste got in a lucky punch last time. The man just wasn't expecting any push back or he wanted to see what Auguste was capable of. Either way, he'd be prepared next time and the sick feeling in Laurent's stomach told him there would be a next time. 

His phone had spotty service in the woods. He was using it to keep track of the time, but he couldn't get a strong enough signal for the compass to guide him out. He held his phone over his head, spinning in a circle. Nothing. So he tried another spot. Still nothing. Over and over and over. Finally, he had to give up and do something he really didn't want to do. He had to text Damen. Auguste and Nik wouldn't be back yet so he had no other options. Thankfully, there were spots that allowed him to send a quick text. 

"When practice is over," he typed after a dozen erased starts. "Can you come out to the house? My tires are damaged. I just need a ride back. Call me when you're close because I need to tell you something." His finger hovered for a minute. Oh, he did not want to do this. He hated asking Damen for help, but even if Auguste was close by, Laurent didn't want him anywhere near this place with a would-be rapist sneaking around. So he didn't have a choice. Damen would call, Laurent would let him know there was a crazy person who might be hanging around and hopefully Damen knew a little bit about the woods. He could help Laurent get out, they'd go back to the house, they'd discuss what came next. After he sent the message Laurent found a space under one of the older trees, his back to the trunk, and waited for Damen's response. The signal was strongest there. He could answer any text or call and with the sticks and leaves covering the ground he'd be able to hear anything or anyone approaching, but when something moved behind him it wasn't leaves or snapping twigs. It was in the wind. The weather was cooler under the trees than it was in the sun and this wind was especially sharp. And full of... whispers? At first, Laurent thought it was just the natural sound in woods this dense, but it was more. He stood and he was instantly dizzy. There were voices. He couldn't make out any actual words, but he could feel the air as it got colder and colder, swirling around him like a freezing vortex. There was pressure, his ears felt full and there was a band around his head so tightly he thought his skull might burst and then there was a voice, clear and crisp. One powerful word just above his ear.

"Run." 

The air released him and he did. He was being chased and he was being warned. He ducked between trees whenever possible and went around the thicker trunks that seemed to touch one another. They swirled together, cracking and bending into one large mass. It was through one of the tiny spaces in the largest of them that he saw the man again. Laurent pressed himself flat against the trunks. He heard the man's voice, rough and grizzled, heard him describing all the disgusting ways the man planned to violate Laurent when he finally caught him. Laurent held his breath, didn't move, didn't even blink, as he walked closer and closer to Laurent and then, in a flash, he turned abruptly. Laurent didn't dare to look in that direction, but the man smiled to himself stalked off into a far away patch of trees. He'd been so close Laurent could smell him and then he was watching the man's broad back disappear, the sound his voice and all the horrible things it said faded. When he finally allowed himself to breathe again Laurent looked down at his phone. Nothing. And he had no idea which way he'd come so it was back to searching for a clear spot, only this time there was not a moment to waste. The sun was fading... especially in the woods. He'd have another hour by the house, but night was falling quickly and he couldn't risk using his phone for light now that he knew the man was still looking for him. He moved carefully, but quickly, stopping only for a second to check his phone. He'd given up almost all hope when he saw a large and an eerily still area of dirt just to his right. He stepped softly as he approached, never taking his eyes off it. He was sure he could make a call there, but he would be in the open, if the man was near he would see Laurent and he might be close enough to get his hands on him again. 

The clearing was an enormous perfectly round circle of dirt with no trees, no weeds, no leaves. Just dirt, black and thick. And when Laurent got to the very edge, he saw the breaks in the darkness. It almost looked like the area was peppered with light or even white capped mushrooms... and when Laurent realized he was looking at bones, bleached, clean and obviously human bones, he had to clap both of his own hands over his mouth to muffle his scream. Theey were old bones. He knew that much. The tops of the trees that circled the dirt didn't quite meet so there was an area in the middle that was bright. Almost intensely bright. More than bright enough to illuminate the very human skull sitting on top of the dirt. It reminded him of ritualistic bone yards he'd studied in an anthropology class he'd taken his sophomore year, but this was real and right in front of him. It was not some abstract romanticized folk tale passed down through generations of superstitious villagers. And he knew in an instant this wasn't his uncle and he wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. No one had searched these woods for a very long time. No one, not even his uncle, would have ignored this. His breath was getting faster and faster as Laurent slowly backed away. He hit something solid and paused. He felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and then there was only darkness.

 

DAMEN:

"What are you doing here, little girl?" Damen asked Ragnar when he came in. All the lights were out. He'd expected to see Laurent, Nik, and Auguste by the time he got home, but instead he was met with an empty house. Ragnar being there was different. She was usually never more than three steps away from Laurent. He'd been running late to practice and then held up talking to some of the parents after that. There was a big game Saturday night and then fall break. It was hectic. He and the other teachers were running way behind with mid-terms and homecoming so checking his phone hadn't even occurred to him until he saw the little dog spinning in circles at his feet, still wearing the green rhinestone hoodie he'd watched Laurent put on her that morning. Between Auguste and his antics, Laurent and attitude, and a chihuahua who probably had the best wardrobe within a hundred miles, he was constantly wondering if they were from the west coast or an entirely different galaxy. And still, without even thinking, he opened the fridge and prepared a meal for Ragnar then sat her on the counter to eat it. Laurent had managed to find a dog nutritionist in Nashville who made specialized meals for local dogs. Damen had no idea what that cost even before he persuaded her to deliver it to Peachers Grove. This looked like chicken with vegetables and some grain he didn't recognize. "Damn dog eats better than half this town," he said to himself, but he was smiling. He'd grown fond of the little thing. She wasn't nearly as yappy as he'd expected. "Where is your... human?" he finally asked her, not having any idea how to refer to Laurent. Her dad? Just Laurent? Her person? While she ate, Damen pulled his phone out and saw the message. It didn't sound like a life or death situation. Just an everyday aggravation. He sent a text back and when he didn't get a quick response, he called. He got no answer so he called again. Still no answer. That was when he started to worry. The message was a few hours old and neither Laurent or his car was at the house. After one more attempt to reach Laurent, Damen called Nik.

"Y-ello," Nik said. Damen could hear the smile in his voice. 

"You gotta be cool, dude," Damen said. "Do not tell Auguste it's me, do not put me on speaker." He paused to give Nik a moment to agree. "Laurent isn't here and I can't get him. He sent me a text a few hours ago saying he was at the house and that he had a flat tire. Didn't say why and it didn't sound urgent, but he's not answering and the dog is here. I'm going out there to see what's going in. Can you keep Auguste busy? Find a hotel, order room service, just keep him away until I figure this out. Can you do that? I don't want Auguste to freak out and you know how they are with each other so I need for you to help me."  

"Yeah, yeah," Nik said. "But this is a bad idea and you know it," he said, his voice lower. 

"Look, Laurent doesn't want Auguste anywhere near that house because of Seth. I'm probably gonna go out there and he's gonna be fine and pissed that it took me this long to get back to him. I'm sure everything is good and I'll text you as soon as I know."

Nik agreed and Damen went to change clothes, his mind racing. He threw on his favorite jeans, a hoodie, an old jacket, and work boots. He tried to sound calm for Nik, but he was getting more anxious by the second. No way would Laurent choose to stay in that house and Damen knew neither of them wanted to go into the woods so Laurent not answering was worrisome. He stopped in the garage and grabbed a couple of flashlights and an old miners helmet. He would love to get there with all the supplies and have Laurent mock him, but he did not have a good feeling. His gut was telling him something was wrong. Laurent would have answered if he could. Damen was sure of that. 

On the drive over he didn't turn any music on. The closer he got the to the house, the more he focused on the highway and trees that lined it. It was almost fully dark, but the moon was rising and it was full. Every bit of light, no matter how small, was beneficial. He drove down the stretch of road that approached the house very slowly, making sure he wasn't missing anything. He parked right next to Laurent's car. The tires weren't flat - they were slashed. All four of them. Someone didn't want Laurent to leave. Damen made a quick decision and grabbed his gun from the glove compartment. Better to have it and not need it than to need it while it was still in the truck. He searched the house first. And nothing. Upstairs, downstairs. It was completely empty and then he knew. Laurent wasn't going in those woods unless he had a very good reason. After he stopped at his truck to grab the helmet and the extra flashlight, he stood at the treeline thanking every higher power in the universe that they were just woods. No phantom fires burning. Just to be sure he called out for Laurent, but he heard and saw nothing so he fired off a quick text to Nik telling him to keep Auguste away and stepped out into the woods.

 

LAURENT:

Laurent woke and quickly realized he was not outside. He sat up, squinting to make out his surroundings. He was in a cabin, the walls lined with quilts and pots of herbs and other plants were hung all around him. Most were medicinal. They were healthy and thriving so someone lived there. A fire was burning and on the mantle there were various small jars. There was a smell, a fragrance, in the air. It was woodsy and a bit sweet. Probably all the herbs combined with the cabin and the earth itself. He was unsteady as he got to his feet, his head was still spinning from the blow. He panicked for a minute as it all came rushing back to him, but then he realized he wasn't restrained and there was no one there. At least no one in the room with him. He could walk out the door so he did. There was a small porch with more pots of plants and flowers and two old rocking chairs with a small table between them. There were lines strung between the trees on either side of the little house. The carcasses of several rabbits and a small deer were hanging from one. The other was empty. He heard water running and figured there was a stream close by. He stepped off the porch carefully, looking around for any sign of the man. Or anyone else. Someone had to have brought him there. Through the trees he saw the sunset, but it wasn't like any sunset he'd seen before. The light wasn't warm reds, oranges, and pinks. It was blue, violet, a blinding purple. 

"Get yourself back in this house, child," a small and powerful voice said from behind him. 

Laurent spun around and saw a tiny woman with thick gray hair in a braid that almost reached her waist. She took the few steps down to reach him and tangled her fingers with his lightly. And he allowed it. She was warm and he felt peace wash over him. He knew she wasn't going to hurt him. 

"Come inside, child. You need to eat."

"Laurent!" A familiar voice came through the trees.

He couldn't place it and it didn't seem important so let himself be led back inside, past the front room with the fireplace, and into a small kitchen with a rickety wooden table set next to a stone oven. The room was warm and smelled like fresh bread. Laurent sat at the table, the back of his head still throbbing, and the old woman put a plate and cup in front of him. He took a bite of something, maybe it was the bread he smelled, and closed his eyes as it melted in his mouth. In the cup was some sort of tea. He sniffed it and looked over the edge at the woman. She had been joined by another who was just as old, also with a long braid. 

"Drink it," one of them said. "It's ginger," she said. "For your head." 

Laurent took a sip and winced. It was strong, spicy. The women laughed and one reached across to tip the bottom of the cup, the liquid filling Laurent's mouth. "All of it," she said. The aftertaste was a little sweet. 

"Where am I?" Laurent asked.

"Laurent!" The voice was calling again. It was outside the cabin. It was close.

 "Where you need to be," the first one said with a soft smile. "Those who need us, find us."

Laurent had no memory of "finding" them. "I was in the woods, I was..." his voice cracked as the images flooded his mind again, but before they could overtake him, he felt a small, warm hand touch his.

"Laurent!" The voice again. 

"Who is that?" Laurent asked. The room contracted around him, expanded.

"Shh, shh," one said. "You are where you were meant to be. You know what you were meant to know," she said. 

The last thing Laurent needed were riddles. "I don't know what that means," he said. 

"Laurent!"

"Ah," one said, "Your prince is here."

"I don't know what that means," Laurent was pleading with them.

"You do," the old women nodded in agreement. "They called you here."

"Laurent!"

"Who called me here?" Laurent asked. 

"The dead, child. The dead called you."

 

AUGUSTE:

The sun was shining when Laurent woke up. Auguste saw the blankets shifting just before he opened his eyes. "Oh, thank God," Auguste said, rushing to his side like the mother hen he was. 

Damen had called Nik around 10 the night before. Nik didn't say where they were going until they were in the hospital parking lot. Auguste didn't wait around to hear an explanation, but he would be demanding one soon. The only thing he knew was that Laurent was lost in the woods for nearly 6 hours and no one had told Auguste a thing. And that was enough. Nik had offered to stay with him, but Auguste wasn't really in the mood to be around him so he left with Damen. Damen had taken the day off because of something he found in the woods. Well, something Laurent found. Auguste hadn't slept for over 24 hours. It wasn't even difficult to stay awake and by Laurent's side. The doctors had assured him that Laurent would be fine, but until Auguste saw him open his eyes he didn't believe them. He'd called his mother as soon as Laurent was put in a room and she'd sent a text a few hours later telling him she was on her way to the airport. Time stopped meaning anything until Laurent was up and talking to him. 

"Where's Damen?" Laurent asked. 

Auguste was taken aback. He'd never heard Laurent ask about a guy. And after what happened, hearing that the second he woke up, was just weird. "What?" Auguste said. It sounded more like a bark than a question. "I'm sorry," he said, pushing a strand of Laurent's hair behind his ear. "Damen is with Nik," he said softly. "He said you found something and he needed to go back."

Laurent looked confused. Like he was searching his mind. "What did I find?" he asked Auguste.

"I don't know," Auguste said. "I didn't ask. I didn't care." He still didn't. Not really. Damen could have found the damn leprechaun at the end of the rainbow with his little pot of gold. It wouldn't have mattered to Auguste. 

"How did I get here?" Laurent asked.

"Damen," Auguste said. "He found you in the woods. He said you were confused and you were bleeding. You have five stitches in your face."  

"I have to get out of here," Laurent said. Auguste saw realization dawning on his face. He was trying to get up even as Auguste was holding him down. 

"Are you kidding me? You have a gash across your face and huge knot on the back of your head." Auguste was beginning to think everyone around him was losing their minds. "What is going on? What did you find? Why were you in the woods alone?"

"The man from Nashville. The one you were arrested for assaulting?" Laurent said. "He's here, Auguste. He knew our uncle. Do you have any idea who he is? Do you know anything about him?"

Auguste had spoken with his lawyer days ago, but he only knew the basics. He had no idea how the guy would know anyone in their family. And he had no idea why he had anything to do with Laurent being in the woods. "I don't... yeah, his name is Govart. I don't know if that's first or last. He's just some guy who has been in and out of jail since he was a kid." 

Laurent took a deep breath. "He was at the house yesterday and I-"

"Why were you at the house yesterday?" Auguste asked. It was an odd place for Laurent to be. He hadn't shown any interest in the place at all.

"Let me talk, Auguste," Laurent said. Auguste could hear the slight aggravation creeping into his voice. "I just went out to the house to look around. I can't stop thinking about what happened the night Damen and I spent there. The guy, Govart came in as I was leaving and we got into a fight and I-"

"The guys working there just let him attack you?"

"Auguste!" Laurent said. 

"Fine, fine."

"I let the guys go home early," Laurent said, Auguste could hear the concession in his voice. "I just wanted to look around. I thought maybe I might call Damen and see if he wanted to come out and... don't." Laurent said as he looked at Auguste. He had to see the smile that was spreading on Auguste's lips. "We got in a fight, the guy, Govart and me. He told me who he was and that he knew our uncle and..." He stopped.

"What?" Auguste asked. Laurent was deciding something. There was conflict on his face and in his voice. "Please tell me." Auguste hated the idea of Laurent carrying anything heavy on his own. They were brothers. They should be able to share any burdens. 

"Auguste, I think our uncle told him things about you. This guy... he was asking about you and talking about you. Then he tried to punch me." 

Auguste felt his spine go rigid. "What did he say?"

Laurent looked up at him, his voice soft. "He said our uncle told him that you were-" he stopped. "That you really enjoyed the company of other men." Laurent's voice was little more than a whisper. Then, as if he was able to read Auguste's mind, "And I don't know why he slashed my tires, I don't know how he knew our uncle, and I don't know he found you or me. I just know that he was violent. I don't really know what he wanted or why he was there." 

"So you ran into the woods to get away from him?" Auguste was pretty sure he knew what the guy was up to. 

Laurent nodded. "Yeah. And I can't explain any of this. I can't explain what I heard and saw in the woods. This place is awful," he said. "I want to go home," he said. 

Laurent sounded younger than he was. He sounded like a child. A weary and frightened child. And that was not like Laurent so Auguste didn't push for more. He had a million questions, but they could wait. Laurent was awake and he was safe. That was what mattered in that moment.

"If you want to go home," Auguste said, smiling. "We'll go home," he said. It was that simple. He'd miss Nik, but they could always keep in touch, Nik could come to California. "Maybe Nik and Damen could come visit. Or we could all go somewhere else. We don't have to stay here," he said.

They talked a bit more before the doctors came in to examine Laurent and kicked Auguste out of the room. Auguste took the opportunity to go find coffee. Laurent was normally ridiculously picky about coffee, but if Laurent didn't want it, Auguste could drink it. Exhaustion was creeping into his bones. On his way back he felt his phone buzz so he stopped to put the drinks down and check his messages. It was from Nik.

"You are never gonna believe this shit." 


	11. But You're So Smooth And The World's So Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nik meets the parents. Auguste makes a discovery of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion about abuse in the latter part of Auguste's section.
> 
> (title is from Those Shoes by The Eagles)

Damen:

Damen didn't know how to explain what he'd found to the police. He had to take them to it. This was so much bigger than anything Peachers Grove had ever seen. Not just a grave, but a mass grave. Since there was no tissue left on the bones, they had no idea how long they'd been there. At least not by simply looking at them. To make things weirder, Peachers Grove didn't have any missing residents. Seth had been the first in years. It wouldn't be the first time bodies had been buried miles away from the place they were killed, but not one nearby town or city, even counting Nashville, had enough missing persons cases to explain this. It was highly unlikely that a dozen different killers would use the same dumping ground. It was a morning spent watching as bone after bone was dragged up. The TBI put a rush on the tests. They needed to know how this happened and, more importanly, they needed to know when this happened. Damen and Nik knew the best thing they could would be to stay out of the way. They'd given statements, Damen had told them how he found this and he'd told them what happened to Laurent. The detective at the scene was a guy Damen and Nik had known since they were children. He gave Damen his word that he wouldn't question Laurent until he was out of the hospital. None of them figured Laurent would know more than Damen anyway. 

Once they were told they could go, Damen released a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. He needed coffee and food. He also needed sleep, but he was willing to give that up for a little longer because he wanted to go to Laurent. He wasn't sure Nik would be welcomed back to the hospital. Damen knew he was going to go anyway. It was always easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission. That was kind of the way Nik lived his life. Auguste would learn. 

"Did he say anything?" Nik asked. They were walking away from the scene. "When you found him? Could he talk? Because I can't imagine him being speechless. Ever."

"Dude," Damen said. In order to stay out of the way, they were taking a slightly different path out than the one they'd taken in. "He said something about old women. That was about it." Damen still had no idea what he meant. "He was out of it. I don't know how he hit his head, but it's a good size goose egg. I figured he had a concussion. But I don't have a clue what old women he was talking about."

 

NIK:

Nik was hesitating outside the hospital room. 

"Are you going in or not?" Damen asked. 

"No," Nik said. "Maybe? Just send him out."

Then he waited. He hadn't expected Auguste to rush out and into his arms. He also hadn't expected to wait as long as he did. At what point did he give up go home? Or should he go in and face the situation head on. No, not that. Auguste was mad enough. Causing a scene in Laurent's hospital room wasn't going to add anything good to the situation. So he waited. And he waited. He wasn't even sure why Laurent was still in the hospital. He bumped his head. So what. He understood Damen taking him to the ER, but he didn't really understand why he was admitted. And given a private room. Freaking rich people. He checked his watch. He'd been sitting there for over half an hour. Despite his best efforts, he was annoyed. This was petty, he thought. Petty, petty, petty. Then he heard the door click and he jumped up, ready to apologize, but it wasn't Auguste who stepped out. It was an older man with a scowl. At first Nik thought it was a doctor and he felt bad for thinking this was an overreaction. Maybe Laurent was hurt worse than he assumed. But then he noticed the man was dressed casually. Too casually to be a doctor working at the hospital. Auguste was right behind him and he was smiling. 

"Nik, this is my dad, Aleron. Dad, this is Nik." Auguste went to stand beside Nik.

After Nik shook the man's hand, Auguste tangled his fingers with Nik's and squeezed lightly and that kind of made Nik panic. Did Auguste think this was going to go that badly? 

Auguste looked between the two and stepped away, tugging Nik with him. "We're going to go back to the house. Laurent's going to be discharged in a couple of hours. They're waiting for some test results. 

"Nice to meet you, sir," Nik said. The man looked him over and gave him a nod. "That went well," he said to Auguste. He also noticed that Auguste wasn't holding his hand anymore. 

"Actually, it did," Auguste said with a soft laugh. "That's why we're leaving. I told Laurent we'd have food ready. He loves jambalaya."

"We're going to make jambalaya?" Nik asked. He'd ruined Pop Tarts before. 

"Oh, god no," Auguste said. "One of the nurses gave me the names of a few places who have really great menus and she told me how to keep it warm and fresh in the oven until everybody gets there."

Nik nodded. "Sounds good. Wait. Is your mom here too?" Nik didn't want to seem too anxious, but he did want to see her. A lot of those 80s video girls had aged terribly, but a few were still spectacular. He had a feeling their mom was in the latter group.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I've heard so much about her. I wanna meet her."

Auguste just nodded and the easy conversation was killing Nik. He held back as long as he could. "Aren't you supposed to be mad at me?" he asked as they were climbing into the car. 

"Do you  want me to be mad at you?" Auguste asked, looking for his sunglasses. 

"Of course not. But you seemed pretty mad last night." Nik had no idea how this was gonna go. Could go well, could end up with him walking back to Peachers Grove.

Auguste paused and inhaled. "I was mad. I was mad until my mom asked me why. Look," he said, glancing over at Nik. "Laurent is like my kid. It's always been that way. My dad is not the easiest guy to get along with. He and Laurent have had issues. I've always been on Laurent's side. Laurent was never interested in sports. He was never... I can't say popular. He was popular, but he liked to read, he liked to stay in. My parents were both pretty wild and I don't think they expected a kid like Laurent. They expected another me. We're only two years apart, but by the time he was a teenager I had this whole life going on and my parents liked that. They liked having a kid who played soccer and baseball, who was invited to everything, who had all kinds of friends. That just wasn't Laurent. As he got older, he pulled back. He had no interest in having a life like mine. Our mom was fine with it, but our dad didn't understand. He pushed Laurent to be something he wasn't and that hurts. It makes you feel like you're not good enough. Laurent would never admit that, but it has to. So when our dad would start, I always stepped in. So he's been my baby for so long. What happened last night... I should have been there. I'm always there for him and you took that away from me."

Nik heard Auguste take a deep breath. It made sense. "I get it,"he said. "I'm sor-"

"Don't apologize," Auguste said, smiling. "There's no reason to be sorry. I couldn't have done anything. So no apologizing." 

 

 

AUGUSTE:

After the food was in the oven, Auguste decided to change the sheets on the bed in Laurent's room. Laurent had complained about the hospital blankets being scratchy. Auguste knew Laurent was going to be fine, but he also knew that finding a dead body was bad. He still wasn't completely over it and he would never be fully over it. He couldn't imagine being chased into the woods, finding a mass grave, and then being knocked out. That was much worse than what happened to Auguste. And Auguste believed everything Laurent told him. If Laurent said he saw the fires then he saw the fires. Laurent wasn't one to make up silly stories and he certainly wasn't going to be spooked into hallucinations by local ghost stories. And who knew what was in those woods. They'd been here a month and the body count was still rising. Their uncle died in one of those trees. Uncle Reg wasn't the suicidal type, though. Something terrible must have happened to push him that far. Nothing ever really bothered the man.

"Hey, do you have more blankets?" he asked, calling out the door for Nik. "I'm gonna wash this one," he said, his voice going lower when Nik appeared around the corner. 

"You mean, ask me to wash it?" Nik said with a laugh. He was looking through the hall closet. 

"I know how to wash sheets." Auguste grabbed one of the belt loops on Nik's jeans, pulled him back, and kissed his shoulder. "My parents aren't staying here," he wound his arms around Nik's waist. "We can finish what we started last night?" It wasn't really a question. Nik wasn't going to say no. 

"Oh, yeah?" Nik said and turned. Auguste laughed, sharp and quick, when he felt Nik's already hard cock pushing against him. 

"Really?" Auguste said as he pushed him away. "Help me," he called, walking back into Laurent's room.  He grabbed one of Laurent's pillows and shook it out of the case, but more than the pillow came out. 

"Whacha got?" Nik asked. 

"Pictures," Auguste said, looking through them. It took him a second to understand what he was holding. Nothing graphic, but still way too intimate. "Of Laurent," he said. Laurent couldn't be more than 13. "Nik," he didn't really know what to say.

"Who took these?" Nik asked. "And why are they here?" He sounded as confused as Auguste felt.

Auguste shrugged. He had no idea.

"Do you know where they were taken?" Nik asked, looking over Auguste's shoulder.

"I think so. My uncle had a ranch." After finding one with a large window with a fence and a barn, he was certain. "He had horses. Laurent loved horses..." even as Auguste was talking, a horrible ache settled into his stomach.

"Something else, too," Nik said. He held up a phone. 

Auguste grabbed it and tried to get into it. "Can you open it?" he asked Nik. His brain was buzzing and he felt a sickness washing over him, threatening to completely swallow him. Realization, a concrete certainty, was slowly dawning on him even though he tried to push it back. It couldn't possibly mean that. His uncle was weird, but he wasn't a... was he?

"I can't," Nik said. He took the phone and set it aside. "What are you thinking?" Nik's voice was low, serious.

"I don't know. I know what it looks like. Our uncle... he never got married." He looked back at the photos, his breath caught in his chest. "Laurent hated him. I never knew why." He stood, he sat back down, he blinked back tears. He had no idea he could get as angry as he was. He'd never felt that level of rage. He had never felt so helpless. He looked at Nik who was sitting next to him. "I don't know... this can't be right." But even as he was trying to deny it, he knew it was right. And he didn't know what to do. He always knew what to do for Laurent. At least he thought he did. Now nothing made sense and he had to question every decision he'd ever made. "Laurent spent a summer at the ranch." Auguste stopped. "Oh my god," his voice cracked. "This was the summer I went to Europe." He felt the tears spill down his face. There was no blinking them back. "I didn't want him to go. I thought he was too young. He was 13. I'd just turned 16. I didn't want him to go, Nik." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't want him to go." That's all he could say. The words bounced around his brain. 

"Hey, no." Nik was kneeling in front of Auguste. "Even if this is what it looks like, it is not your fault. You had nothing to do with it," he said. "You being a normal 16 year old was not this reason this happened."

"I always thought I was protecting him from everything. From our dad, from my friends who wanted to date him, from random guys who came up to him at clubs. He never wanted the attention." Auguste's breathing was ragged. 

"Look, look." Nik sounded so calm. Auguste realized he had to be. "We're gonna put this room back like we found it, ok? You don't wanna do this with your parents here. We'll remake the bed, we'll put the phone and the pictures back. There's a time for this and it is not now. He's had a rough night, ok. You gotta pull yourself together. For Laurent."

Auguste nodded. He couldn't even help Nik with the room. All he could do was watch. His limbs were lead. 

"Alright," Nik said, pulling the comforter up to the pillows. "We need to get out of here. And you need to snap out of this. I know that's easier for me to say than it is for you to do, but you have to. I know you want to, but you can't confront him. It should be his decision. You can look for ways to bring it up and ask him, guide him. But you can't confront him. Especially not right now. You want to protect him? Protect him. Don't let this happen tonight, Auguste. For Laurent's sake." 

Auguste knew Nik was right. He let himself be led into Nik's bedroom and when Nik wrapped his arms around him, Auguste fell into him. He wasn't sure how long they stood there, but Auguste eventually let go. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were red and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Nik looked at his watch.

"Go take a shower," he said. "They're going to be here soon. If you're just getting out of the shower, it won't be so obvious."

The front door opened. "Shower," Nik said. Auguste nodded and did as he was told. 


	12. Our Only Goal Will Be The Western Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen and Laurent ask an expert. Pallas arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is from Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin)

LAURENT:

Auguste had been exhausting. If Laurent was seriously injured he would understand all the attention Auguste was giving him, but as it was Laurent felt suffocated. Auguste charmed the doctor into getting him admitted for the night. He called their parents. He convinced them to Nashville. And it had only gotten worse once they were back at Damen's house after Laurent was released from the hospital. It was a bump on the head, for fuck's sake. Of course, he knew being annoyed by all the attention was absolutely hypocritical because if that Govart character had chased Auguste into the woods Laurent would want the man's head on a spike. He already wanted his head on a spike for the things he'd said about Auguste. That was a new low even for his uncle. Offering Auguste as some sort of favor as if he was a rentboy who could be found on Craigslist. Or wherever one went to find rentboys.

"Didn't you want to go with your parents?" Damen was just waking up. Apparently. 

Laurent's parents had gone into Nashville for the day. Auguste and Nik went with them and as fun as watching Nik and his father would be, Laurent stayed behind because his mind was on fire and he wanted to sort it out, to try and make sense of it. After they left the hospital he'd insisted on stopping to pick up a laptop and a printer. He'd set his alarm early and been awake to see Auguste and Nik off, though getting Auguste to leave was almost impossible, then he got to work. He was currently in the middle of the living room floor, the coffee table pushed back against the wall, with papers all around him. Over the last 24 hours he'd been able to remember most of the things that happened in the woods. He wanted to know everything he could about the town's past and its local folklore. He'd found the entire history of the town, ghost stories about the area, and census data. He was currently scanning a website that had information on the house his uncle bought, but very little of what he'd seen seemed based in fact.

"No," Laurent said, glancing up at Damen. He was handsome. He was fresh out of bed, his hair a mass of soft, tangled curls. He was wearing a pair of flannel sleep pants and nothing else. Laurent had to force his eyes away. Luckily Damen was too groggy to notice. "I have the stuff to make pancakes ready. If you're interested." He looked back at Damen and smiled.

"You're going to make me pancakes?" Damen sounded perfectly scandalized. 

"Chocolate chip pancakes. And a caramel latte."

Damen appeared too stunned to speak.

"Why do they call that place The Round House?" Laurent asked, walking into the kitchen. 

"Probably because The Round Field doesn't sound as spooky? I really don't know." Damen was sitting on the counter across from the island.

"It kind of does," Laurent said, mixing the batter from memory. "But the house isn't a circle. The clearing it sits in is which is weird. And the grave. It was a perfect circle. Do you think the bones are connected to the house? With the children who supposedly died there? And the old women... they were real, Damen. The house was real. It was a cabin. I remember everything about it."

Damen's eyebrows furrowed together. 

"Sorry," Laurent said leaving the pancakes and starting the coffee. "You probably need caffeine before I ask you all this."

Damen shook his head, he was clearly thinking. Laurent handed him his cup. "I've never heard anything about old women, but I've never been deep into those woods so I don't know. It's certainly possible that there's a cabin I don't know about. Please tell me you don't want to go back," Damen sounded tired. 

"Not today, but-"

"Wait," Damen suddenly looked up, as if an idea had slapped him in the face. "Pallas," he said. 

"What is a Pallas?" Laurent asked, squeezing some of the batter into a skillet. 

"Who is Pallas," Damen said with a laugh. "He's my little cousin. He's been in those woods a thousand times. He's at Vanderbilt. They have a huge library. It would have access to property deeds and anything else you'd want to know."

 

DAMEN:

Pallas was more than happy to help. Damen felt a little guilty. Pallas had been in college for months and Damen had hardly spoken to him since he left Peachers Grove so the first thing Damen did when he saw him was pull the kid into a tight hug. Pallas looked good. It was probably the first time Damen had really looked at him and saw him as an adult and not some kid chasing after Damen and trying to do everything just like him. He'd grown up when Damen wasn't looking. but apparently others were looking. They decided to meet at a coffee shop on West End then Dame and Laurent walked to the library with Pallas. About a dozen pretty coeds smiled and said hello to Pallas even though none of them seemed to catch Pallas's attention and that made Damen curious. 

"So how is life?" Damen asked him. Beside him, he saw Laurent trying not to smile. Laurent was tapping away at a computer so Damen was surprised that he was even paying attention. He probably shouldn't have been. Damen knew very little got by Laurent.

"Where are the printers?" Laurent asked Pallas and the boy pointed them out. 

Damen watched Pallas watch Laurent. "Have you moved on?" Pallas asked with a sly smile.

Like everyone else in the family, and most of the town, Pallas was well aware of what went down with Damen, Kastor, and Jokaste. "You know," Damen said, he hadn't really thought too much about it, but he had moved on. "I think I have. She hasn't been on my mind at all."

"I guess not," Pallas said, glancing behind Damen at Laurent. 

Damen started to correct him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. Damen and Laurent weren't together, but somehow Damen's hurt and anger over his brother and his ex had melted into an almost refreshing indifference. He didn't really care what they did. "I'm not with Laurent," he told Pallas. The "but I'd sure as shit like to be" was implied. "He's kept me busy, though." What an understatement that was. He looked behind himself and saw Laurent talking with one of the librarians. She was on her desktop and Laurent had moved to stand beside her. She was pointing at her screen and talking and Laurent was nodding and playing with his bottom lip. Damen noticed he did that when he was thinking. 

"Why not?" was Pallas's next question. 

"I don't think Laurent is the dating type." That was the only way Damen could think to explain it. He certainly understood why it might be difficult for Laurent. Damen didn't know how anyone worked that out. He did consider Laurent a friend though. And that was enough. Damen would like more, but if only friendship was offered, Damen would be satisfied. 

"What's he looking for?" Pallas asked. The conversation between Laurent and the librarian looked serious. 

"Information about the round house. When it was built, who lived there. It's probably about to be all over the news. There was a mass grave in the woods." And Damed laid the entire tale out. From the fires he'd seen with Laurent to the discovery of the bones.

"The two old women sounds familiar. Kinda like the Bell Witch out in Adams." Pallas paused and then "You need to talk to Dr. Loagan. He's a local historian. If anyone knows the truth about that house and all the stories it'd be him."

"We have to go see a professor," Laurent said, packing a new stack of papers into his backpack. 

"Dr. Loagan?" Damen asked.

"Yeah," Laurent looked a little confused.

"That's what Pallas just said." Damen clarified.

"Come on," Laurent slung his bag over his should. "He's meeting us in his office." 

"He's in his office on a Saturday?" Damen asked. He knew teachers who spent Saturdays in the school, but he wasn't one of them. Of course, he didn't have a family to get home to every night so if he had to stay late, he could stay late. 

"He's always in his office," Pallas said. "His whole world is history."

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I'd say it's odd that you boys are here interested in this, but I have a friend in the TBI. I heard all about the excitement going on down in Peachers Grove," the man, Dr. Loagan greeted them as they walked into his office. 

Laurent didn't immediately tell the man he was the one who found the grave so Damen didn't say anything either. He didn't think "excitement" was the word he would have used, though.

"You were asking about the house?" Dr. Loagan said.

"Yeah. Do you know who built it?" Laurent asked.

"I know a lot about it," the man said. "It was built in 1902 by a man from New Orleans. He'd been running from a scandal and wanted to settle somewhere and start over. His name was Cyril Abshire. A lot of people have theorized that he was a distant relation to Marie Laveau. My research hasn't uncovered any proof of that, but I guess anything is possible. Highly unlikely, but possible. Records weren't always so thorough back then."

"Scandal?" Laurent asked. "What kind of scandal?"

"Children," the man said simply. "Several children went missing and the only thing they had in common was contact with Mr. Abshire."

"Children went missing in New Orleans?" Laurent asked.

"They did. All with some connection to him. They were mostly the children of people who worked for his family. The Abshires were extraordinarily wealthy and they employed many people. Maids, groundskeepers, cooks. All of the children were from working class families who had some contact with the Abshire family. Children of his family's peers would have raised too many alarms, I suppose. The family was well placed in New Orleans society. It would have been pointless to accuse him without credible evidence. They never found any of the children and no witnesses ever came forward. It's thought that his family sent him away to live in exile to avoid any further incidents."

"You mentioned Marie Laveau... was he into voodoo?" Damen knew the rumors and he was curious if there was any truth in any of them. 

Dr. Loagan looked at Damen like he was a pupil who had just impressed his tutor.

"In a way. His interpretation was dark. Voodoo is used way too freely. It's a catch-all for things people don't generally understand. Especially those who aren't familiar with New Orleans and its culture. This is probably why he's linked to Marie Laveau. She's the historic voodoo queen and everyone knows who she is. Often things that shouldn't be linked find their way together. Mr. Abshire was a white man. It's still possible, but as I said it's highly unlikely. Interestingly, his religion is thought to be the reason the house was built on a perfectly cleared circle of land. He practiced with a very specific set of rules that focused on circles. Even if we called it voodoo, every religion has its offshoots and each individual practitioner is unique in beliefs and rituals." Dr. Loagan turned and pulled a file out of a cabinet behind his chair. He opened the folder to reveal pictures of several journals. "He wasn't overly secretive because we know he scared some the locals. But along with his beliefs, he also brought his money with him and he was well-loved by most people in Peachers Grove. He was known to be very generous. There were still rumors, though. They were just hushed and rarely discussed outside of close, intimate relationships. He wasn't a topic found in town gossip while he was still alive, but after he died people did begin to wonder about him. He was never a suspect while he was alive, but in the years he spent in Peachers Grove, more than 30 children disappeared. We're not sure he did it. He employed no domestic help. If he did do it, he was smarter here than he had been in Louisiana. Only 4 disappeared from this immediate area. Most of the children who came up missing were from Nashville. It was a much bigger town so cases were harder to connect. If this happened today, we'd simply check with the New Orleans police, but that wasn't done then."

Laurent took the photos and looked through them. He read the entries and passed them to Damen and Pallas. There was so much information to process. 

"He did it, didn't he?" Laurent's voice was so quiet. "They weren't sacrificed for any ritual, though. He took them and he murdered them."

"I believe so, yes." Dr. Loagon's tone was even. He'd likely made his peace with all this information years ago.

"He buried them in the woods," Laurent said. "But not before he raped them." 

Damen felt a punch to his chest. He'd never heard that. Not even the most twisted versions of the story had come to that. He'd heard voodoo sacrifices. He'd heard cannibalism. He'd heard human experiments that rivaled those of the Nazis... that bunch was particularly gruesome in the post Human Centipede era.

"There was one boy who claimed he'd escaped, but he was from Memphis. At the time no one was really sure who he was or how to got to Peachers Grove, but he claimed he'd been raped, strangled, and taken deep into the woods to and left to die. Somehow he survived and waved down a farmer on his way home. He was adamant about who his attacker was, but no less than a dozen people said they had seen Abshire on the day the boy claimed he disappeared. Travel wasn't like it is today. He could not have been in Peachers Grove and anywhere near Memphis on the same day." 

"So he had someone working for him," Laurent said. Again the professor nodded. 

"Most likely. Again, it seems so obvious to modern eyes," Dr. Loagan said.

"You said the way he practiced his religion needed circles," Laurent said. "The grave we found was a perfect circle. He believed he could seal them in." Laurent sounded like he was thinking out loud. "If he believed that, though, why clear the land in a circle for the house? It's broken by the road in." 

"That I don't know," Dr. Loagan said. "I know of a couple of professors who teach religion. They might not know his exact reasoning because, again, what he was practicing was a complete bastardization, but circles are important in a lot of religions. They may be able to give you some insight."

They sorted through the lesser details, only questions someone with a mind like Laurent would even think to ask. The professor didn't know anything about the old women or the cabin, but he appeared to find that fascinating. Damen felt like he was watching a movie. History was unfolding right in front of him. It suddenly seemed silly that so many different tales had grown up around the truth. It was darker and more fascinating than anything he'd heard before. The professor handed a card to Laurent with the names of two different professors who might be able to answer more specific questions. They thanked Dr. Loagan and promised to keep in touch. He was curious about what Laurent might find. 

"Oh, one other thing," Dr. Loagan said as they were leaving. "The boy's name was Nicaise Bissett. He still has family in Memphis." 


	13. A Dream Unthreatened By The Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen and Laurent spend some quality time alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title from Learning To Fly by Pink Floyd)

 

DAMEN:

Damen noticed the house was dark as he was turning into the driveway. Not totally dark because they'd left a few lights on for Ragnar, but it was obvious they were the first ones back. "Wow," he said. "I figured Nik and Auguste would be here by now." 

"My parents are staying in Nashville," Laurent said. He sounded nervous. "And I asked Auguste and Nik to stay too." He glanced over at Damen for a quick second before getting out of the truck.

Damen didn't really know what to do with that, but he didn't let his mind get carried away. Laurent had a lot to process and Auguste didn't know, couldn't know, what Damen knew so of course he wanted some time alone. He probably wanted to talk about what they'd learned.

"Ok," he said. "Are you hungry?" They'd eaten with Pallas, but it was a light meal and it was hours ago.

"No," Laurent said. "I'm gonna take a shower," his voice was suddenly lighter. Once they were inside, he scooped Ragnar up. "Can you feed her?" 

"Sure," Damen said. He took the little dog and set her on the kitchen counter. He'd decided weeks ago that she should eat up there. She was so tiny and the floor seemed so far below him. 

Damen grabbed a beer out of the fridge, leaned again the sink and watched Ragnar eat. Luckily she liked the meal he'd chosen. She could be extremely picky. She was a sweet little dog, but she had a bratty streak. Much like her human. Laurent asked Auguste and Nik to stay in Nashville. Why would he do that? Staying objective was kind of impossible. Why did he want them to be alone? Did he want to talk about what they'd learned? Or was is something else? Damen was undressed, in the bathroom, and turning the water on before he even realized he was getting in the shower. He was on autopilot and trying so hard not to think about Laurent in the shower. Laurent in the shower. Naked, wet. Soapy. Oh, he was not going to masturbate with Laurent in the next room. It was uncouth. So he did what he had to do and turned the the knob all the way to the right, gritting his teeth as icy water shot out at him, chilling him to the bone.

By the time he was dry and dressed, he had a thousand conversations about what they'd learned. And he had a thousand things he wanted to say, wanted to ask. Laurent was sitting in the front porch swing, bundled into a blanket, holding a glass of wine. Ragnar was beside him. At least Damen hoped she was. She wasn't underfoot and there was a bulge under the blanket that was moving. Damen grabbed another beer and went to join him. 

"Want some company?" Damen asked Laurent. Laurent lifted the blanket. Damen smiled and picked Ragnar up so he didn't sit on the little thing as he slid in next to Laurent. "Get into Auguste's wine?" From what Damen had seen Laurent wasn't a drinker. He was Auguste's exact opposite when it came to alcohol. He was Auguste's exact opposite when it came to pretty much anything. They looked so much alike, but they were different down to their very cores. 

"I don't think Auguste needs any more alcohol," Laurent said, smiling and looking at his phone. "I don't know what has gotten into him." Laurent sounded amused. "He's sent me nearly three dozen messages today. He's checking in every half hour," Laurent laughed. "I almost couldn't convince him to stay in Nashville tonight."

"You're his baby brother," Damen said. "You spent half the night in the woods and you had a concussion. He's worried. Give him a break. He loves you. I'd be the same way." He nudged Laurent softly with his shoulder. "If it had happened to Auguste, wouldn't you be worried?"

Laurent laughed again. "This has been especially intense. Even for us."

Damen smiled at that. "Us." Though he'd never had that bond with Kastor, it was nice to see it between Auguste and Laurent. He glanced over when he heard Laurent laughing softly. "Want me to tell Nik to distract him?" Damen asked.

"Did I tell you that I met Adam Lambert?" Laurent asked. Apparently, the subject was changing.

"Really?"

"Yep," Laurent said, sipping his wine. "In Auguste's kitchen."

"Again, in the kitchen? Was he making vegan pancakes?" Damen asked, remembering the story from the corn maze. 

"No,' Laurent said, laughing. His eyes were sparkling with a mischief Damen hadn't seen before. "I've met a lot of Auguste's dates in his kitchen. Adam was the best. The others were mostly idiots. Even the famous ones."

"More than a couple of famous guys?" Damen was intrigued. He didn't pay much attention to celebrity gossip so he had no idea who was gay, who straight.

"Yeah. A lot of straight actors seem to enjoy the company of other men," he said, smiling at Damen. "I really liked Adam." He laughed and took a deep breath. "That was the only time I have ever been jealous of Auguste."

"You were jealous?" Damen found that hard to believe. He hadn't seen anything resembling sibling rivalry between Laurent and Auguste. 

"I was. For a second. Adam Lambert is exceptionally pretty. Even in the morning after a rough night, but he was good with Auguste. He didn't try to treat him like some dirty little secret. Auguste deserves more than that. So for a while I shipped Auguste and Adam pretty hard." Laurent paused and looked over at Damen. "But I think Nik is better for Auguste than anyone I've ever met," he said. "They kinda have this meant-to-be thing going."

That caught Damen by surprise, but he agreed. Nik and Auguste had clicked almost instantly. "Nik really cares about Auguste." He almost said love, but caught himself at the last second. Even though Damen had his suspicions, they'd only known each other for a few weeks and it was too quick for something like love. And while this was easy between him and Laurent, he didn't want to say something foolish. If it was true, if Nik was in love, Auguste needed to hear it from him. Still. Nik was beating the lead singer of Queen. Damen was pretty sure he would love to hear that. "I don't think I've ever seen Nik like this with anyone."

"Auguste likes him. He really likes him. Which is new," Laurent said. "I mean, he likes all of them until he doesn't, but no one has lasted this long through as much bullshit. Nik's even met our dad. And he doesn't hate Nik."

Now Damen was laughing again. "I don't know about that," he said. "He's pretty tough on Nik."

"Well, yeah. He knows what Nik is doing to Auguste every night and he doesn't like that, but he'll get used to it. He's done the same thing to plenty of other men's daughters. I'll be pointing that out if he doesn't cool down." Laurent had his head back, eyes closed. "I've never been on a front porch swing before. I like it." 

"Almost all the old houses around here have porches," Damen said. "Under normal circumstances, I think you'd be bored. Even with a swing."

"I'm not bored," Laurent said, breaking into another round of laughter. "I haven't been bored for one second."

Now Damen was laughing too. Not just some odd chuckle. He was really laughing. That's what was missing. He hadn't really laughed since Seth was found. And now he couldn't stop. His laughter was infecting Laurent and Laurent's was infecting him. Ragnar popped her head out to see what all the commotion was about. Laurent leaned against Damen's shoulder and Damen looked down at him. He saw Laurent's eyes lower and look at his lips and then he was moving forward. Laurent lifted his head and met Damen, one hand slipping into Damen's curls and tugging lightly. Damen was the first to open his lips as one of his hands tightened around Laurent's waist and Laurent arched into his touch. When Laurent pulled away, he looked up at Damen. 

"I want to go inside," Laurent said softly. 

As much as he loved hearing that, Damen knew this had to go slowly even if it he felt like he'd been waiting for Laurent his entire life. Everything that came before was a blur. This was where he'd always been meant to be. On this porch, on this night, holding this boy. Damen flexed his fingers and tightened them, trying desperately to stop the trembling. Why was he so nervous? 

"Are you sure?" Damen asked.

"Of course I am. I'm not a virgin," he said. 

"Yeah," Damen said, his voice quiet. "You kind of are." He tipped Laurent's chin up. "Someone taking it from you doesn't count. This counts. If that's what you want. This is your decision." Damen tucked a piece of Laurent's hair behind his ear. "And that's the way it should be."

Laurent smiled, nodded. "This is what I want." He sounded so sure. 

Damen laced their fingers together, took a deep breath and led him inside. He closed the bedroom door behind them and tried to step aside to give Laurent any room he might need. "You can change your mind at any time," Damen said. "Nothing happens unless you want it."

Laurent smiled, grabbed Damen's shirt to keep him in place, and went up on his toes to kiss him. "I'm not going to change my mind," he whispered, his lips brushing Damen's. "I want this," he said. "I want you."

Damen had never seen anyone as beautiful as Laurent. He'd taken Damen's breath away from the first moment. Damen had a weakness for blondes and Nik had been so adamant about Damen staying away from Laurent, but Damen never had any intention of doing that. He'd been dreaming about this for weeks.

Laurent stood by the side of Damen's bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Damen was regretting not changing the sheets, but how could he have known this night was going to go this way? And why was he thinking about sheets? Laurent lifted the hem of Damen's shirt and Damen tugged it off and leaned in and slid his arms about Laurent. He laid back against his pillows, Laurent half on top of him. Damen kissed him again, his lips moving across Laurent's jaw and down his neck, finally stopping at a spot behind his ear that made Laurent shiver. Laurent crawled on top of him, his knees on either side of Damen's hips, his chest pressed tight to Damen. The feeling of Laurent's bare skin pressed to his own made him dizzy. His hands squeezed Laurent's sides, moving down, his fingers dipping under the waistband of Laurent's pajamas. Laurent pressed into Damen and Damen could feel Laurent's cock, already hard, against his own. Damen grabbed the back of Laurent's knee and flipped them. Laurent tensed for a moment and then relaxed under Damen. Damen rolled his hips, pressing their cocks together, and Laurent jerked, pushed his hips up against Damen.

"Tell me what you want," Damen said, kissing across Laurent's cheek. "I will do anything for you," he whispered right into Laurent's ear. He'd never meant anything he'd ever said more than he meant that.

Laurent smiled, but he hesitated. "I don't really know."

Damen slid his hand across Laurent's ass, jerking at the pants he was still wearing. "Why don't we take these off?" Damen asked. When Laurent nodded, Damen leaned back on his knees and quickly pulled them down and tossed them off the bed. 

Laurent was magnificent. Damen felt his breath catch in his chest as he looked down at him.

"You're making me nervous," Laurent said with a small laugh. 

"Why?" Damen asked, his voice cracked. "You are... exquisite." There was probably a better word, but his brain was frozen. "Can I..." he wasn't sure what he was asking permission to do. He wanted to touch, to taste, anything. When Laurent responded with another shy, nervous nod, Damen bent forward, Laurent's legs opening for him. He ran his hand up Laurent's thigh and squeezed his ass. Laurent closed his eyes and froze. Damen kissed behind his ear again, his fingers lightly tracing Laurent's skin until he felt Laurent's body loosen beneath him. He moved down, clamping his lips around one nipple and then the other. Laurent would tense and Damen watched him, touched him softly, encouraging him to breathe. Damen only continued when he was sure he had permission. This had already been taken from Laurent once. Damen would not take it again. He took his time moving down, kissing every inch of skin, stopping to pay extra attention when Laurent shivered or let small sounds escape. When he took Laurent in his mouth, Laurent gasped and arched his back, his hips pushing into the bed. Damen kept his hands firm on Laurent's waist, holding him in place. 

Laurent's breath sounded ragged. That was what Damen wanted to hear. He turned his head, his fingers gripping the outside of Laurent's thigh, holding it steady so Damen could suck and nibble a bruise into the soft, pale skin. He looked up and Laurent's eyes were still closed, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Damen smiled to himself and pressed a kiss to the opposite thigh then slid his hands under Laurent's ass, pushing his hips up so he could lick one long, slow stripe. He saw Laurent's head fly off the pillow, his breath pushed out of his lungs. Damen went back to work, his tongue working its way inside, he opened his lips, kissing Laurent there like he would kiss his lips. He was paying attention, though. Watching for any indication that Laurent was uncomfortable. He moved his lips away for a moment and pressed the tip of his finger against Laurent, pushing just barely inside, his eyes intent on Laurent's face the entire time. Laurent jerked and looked down at him and Damen waited, watched, until Laurent tangled his fists in Damen's hair and pulled him back into place. 

"Can I?" Damen asked, touching Laurent with a second finger. He pulled back quickly when Laurent cried out, but Laurent tightened his grip and pulled him close again. He moved his fingers in and out slowly for a moment before taking Laurent's cock back into his mouth. His plan was to overwhelm Laurent with pleasure, to make it impossible for him to hold back and before long he felt Laurent tense. Laurent tried to pull Damen's mouth off, but Damen refused to move. He wanted to taste Laurent. Laurent came with another cry, this one louder, and Damen was glad Nik and Auguste weren't with them. Laurent was free to be as loud as he wanted without worrying about his brother being near enough to hear. Damen was pretty glad about that too. Auguste wasn't big enough to take Damen down, but he could probably do some damage. Damen closed his eyes as Laurent pushed his hips up into his mouth then down onto his fingers, unsure which pleasure to chase. Damen did his best to make sure it was a difficult decision.

When Damen felt Laurent relax back into the bed, he kissed his stomach and looked up at Laurent. His eyes were barely open and he was flushed from his cheeks to the middle of his chest. Damen pulled his hand away and Laurent grabbed his wrist, pulled it back between his legs, guiding Damen's fingers back inside. "Yeah?" Damen asked with a smile. Laurent nodded again, looking away. Damen softly touched his chin and turned his head back. "Hey, hey," he said, his voice light. "Don't look away. I want you to ask me for whatever you want, ok?" Damen pushed his fingers inside again, dragging them out slowly.  "We can do this all night," he said, bending to kiss Laurent. Laurent's breath stuttered when Damen found that one perfect spot.

"Auguste has always told me about that," Laurent said, his eyes looking down. "About what you did with your tongue. I think it's his favorite thing ever," he said, finally looking up at Damen. "I didn't really believe him until now." Laurent's breath fluttering with every other word, moving his hips in time with Damen's fingers. Then, "I want more."

"More what?" Damen asked. He genuinely wasn't sure.

"I want you to fuck me," he said. 

Damen shivered, pushed his fingers a little deeper without even realizing. Laurent arched off the bed.

Damen wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Talking softly, laughing, kissing, Laurent pausing and gasping when Damen's fingers found just the right spot, adding lube when needed. He wanted this to be perfect, completely painless. Laurent had already hurt enough. When Damen slipped inside him, Laurent closed his eyes and bit down on his lip. "Look at me," Damen said, tapping Laurent's chin. He wanted Laurent to know that it was him there with him, no one else. Not someone who was going to hurt him or humiliate him. It was Damen, only Damen, whose only goal was to make Laurent feel good, to make him feel safe. And being inside Laurent was almost too much for Damen. He'd been in love before. Desperately in love. He'd had beautiful partners. But no one had prepared him for this. Laurent's eyes, the perfect shade of blue normally, were darker, his lips were red, his cheeks flushed. Damen had never seen anything more gorgeous. He went slow, pausing each time before sliding back inside, doing anything he could to make it last. Laurent's arms were wrapped around Damen, scratching his back. Damen was propped on one arm beside Laurent's head, the other hand moving up and down Laurent's cock. He was fully hard again. Damen wanted to experience Laurent's orgasm while he was inside him. Taking it slowly was driving Damen crazy. He wanted everything all at once, but he kept control. When Laurent came the second time, he surged forward, smashing his lips to Damen's. Damen allowed the pulse of Laurent's body drag him over the edge. He collapsed onto Laurent, his forehead meeting Laurent's. He almost didn't have the strength to roll over. 

Afterward, they stayed close. Damen on his back with Laurent laying on his chest. He could tell something was on Laurent's mind. 

"That was amazing," Laurent said. Damen knew a "but" was coming. 

"You're making me nervous," Damen said, chuckled. 

"No," Laurent was looking up at him. "Next time I want to... do more," he said. "I feel like I just laid there and you did all the work," he sounded unsure.

"We can do whatever you want, however you want." Damen lifted his head and kissed the top of Laurent's. 

"Really?" There was a tone in Laurent's voice as he looked up at Damen. Just that one word felt fully loaded.

"You're making me nervous again," Damen said. Laurent's laughter was quickly becoming his favorite sound.


End file.
